Our Little Corner of the World
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Five years after being ousted from the Wizarding world, two former Slytherins stumble upon a woman who claims not to be Hermione Granger.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note 9/29/13 - For some reason, on my screen, this shows up as a Hermione/Draco/Marcus story. I don't know why that doesn't show in the search results. Please keep this in mind.**

Here's something new! I mentioned in my author note for "Blessing Disguise" that I haven't yet figured out the pairing for this story yet. For now, I'll categorize it as Hermione only. Why isn't there a "The Slytherins" category? That would be so handy.

As always, I own nothing but the general plot. I do, however, have a birthday coming up if anyone needed a gift idea.

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><p>Chapter 1<br>The last place he wanted to be was muggle London. Marcus Flint wandered the crowded streets, glowering at all who bumped into him in their quest to reach their destinations. If it hadn't been for his father's actions during the Second Wizarding War, he never would have been there. As it were, several families had been excommunicated by the Ministry of Magic, including the Malfoys and the Notts. His best friend, Adrian Pucey, left the wizarding world as well, despite his family not having been a part of Lord Voldemort's army.

There was one small speck of silver lining to his life in the muggle world - the second-hand bookshop just blocks from the flat he shared with his friends. It was a small, quiet space filled with the comforting musty smell of old leather. There were never many customers, leaving the shop an uninterrupted slice of heaven in the middle of an overcrowded city. Rounding the corner, he entered the shop and breathed in deeply. Once the door closed, all the noise of the outside world disappeared.

"Hey, mate," Adrian whispered as he fingered the spine on a book of 17th Century poetry. Marcus nodded in reply so as not to disrupt the sanctity of the shop. Adrian moved down the row examining each title they passed. "This place is great. We should have visited the muggle world before."

"Will you shut up?" Marcus hissed, looking around to make sure no one heard. When he realized they were alone in the shop, he continued browsing. When they reached the end of the aisle, Marcus went left while Adrian went to the right. He breathed a grateful sigh when he was alone. The time he spent in the shop was his escape from the reality of what his life had become. Despite the prospect of a promising Quidditch career, his father's ousting had effected his chances to play. The money the Ministry had allowed them to convert had kept the Flints solvent for a period of time, but he was eventually forced to take a job as a stock boy in a local sporting goods store in order to pay his rent. His father resented him for leaving him alone, and Marcus resented his father for forcing him into a life of servitude to a madman.

In his musings, he reached the end of the row and spotted a girl across the way. She read intently, seemingly unaware that she was being watched. She tucked her straight, honey brown hair behind her ear several times in an unfruitful attempt to keep it out of her eyes. When he spotted Adrian, he motioned for him to join him.

"She looks familiar," Adrian commented. Marcus hummed in agreement as they tried to place her. "Looks like that girl from Hogwarts - Grimes or Grover or..."

"Granger," Marcus stated.

"Yeah," Adrian agreed, running a hand through his dark blond hair. "What do you think she's doing here?"

Marcus shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about spying on his preoccupied former schoolmate. "She's muggleborn, right? It's probably as simple as that," he replied, turning away. "Listen, I have to go. My shift starts in half an hour."

He spent the majority of his six hour shift thinking about the girl in the shop. Rumor had it that Hermione Granger disappeared soon after the war ended, and no one had known where she went. Some said she died in battle, though none had proof. Other said she moved to Australia to locate her parents. Until today, Marcus hadn't cared which story was true. Three years separated them in school, and he had no interested in the young, frizzy-haired muggleborn.

Draco Malfoy spoke of her often. He spent years hating her for her heritage and good grades. But after the war, something in the once proud blond changed. The young man had been ruined by the war, both emotionally and in status. Marcus watched as the younger wizard scoured the newspaper for news of the missing witch. She'd become something of an infatuation for his friend. Perhaps, now that she'd been found, Draco would have some peace.

When Marcus's shift ended, he went back to the bookshop. "Hermione? Hermione Granger?" he called out before she reached the corner.

She stopped and slowly turned. "I'm sorry. I don't know who that is," she replied in a slightly frightened tone. Marcus apologized for the confusion and let her continue on her way. Her pace quickened until she disappeared around the block.

Whistling, Marcus turned around and walked home. Three blocks later, he entered the flat he shared with Adrian, Draco, and Theo Nott. The three roommates were seated around the television arguing about the night's programming options. "Malfoy, got a minute?" he asked.

Draco dropped the remote control and followed Marcus to the kitchen. "What's going on?" Draco inquired, taking a seat at the table.

Sighing, Marcus took a seat across from him. "I found Hermione Granger," he stated. "She's says she's not, but you should have seen how scared she looked when I said her name."

"Where?" Draco wondered. Marcus told him about his trip to the bookstore both before and after work. "She saved my life, ya know," he added when the older man finished.

"During the war?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "In the Room of Requirement, she cast a protection charm on me when Weasley tried to hex me," he told him. "Then when we were trying to escape, it was Granger who begged Potter to get me out. And then the war ended and she disappeared, and I never got to thank her for saving my life. She didn't have to do it, any of it, but she did. I've always wondered why."

"Well," Marcus sighed, "looked like you'll have your chance now."

Hermione Granger entered her flat, out of breath and scared. Five years earlier, she had turned her back on the wizarding world. But now she'd been found, and by a Death Eater no less. It was time to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all so much for the positive response to chapter 1! I'm interested in reading who you think she should end up with.

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><p>Chapter 2<br>Hermione eased out the front door of her building, looking both ways to make sure she wasn't being followed. The bookshop was in sight as she rounded the corner as cautiously as possible. There were a few items she needed to pick up before leaving town, including her last paycheck. A hand, from out of nowhere, grabbed her when she reached the front step of the shop while the other covered her mouth.

"Don't scream," he warned. Her eyes widened as her mysterious captor pulled her into the empty store. He didn't speak again until they were in the deepest corner of the store. "I won't hurt you. I just need to know you won't run. I'll let go once you nod your head."

Hermione quickly nodded, and once he let go, she turned to face Marcus Flint. "What do you want with me?" she demanded.

"Why did you tell me last night that you aren't Hermione Granger?" he inquired.

"Why are you following me?"

Marcus chuckled. "I'm not...following you," he replied. "Adrian and I saw you here yesterday, and I was curious."

"About what?"

Sighing, Marcus took a seat in an old armchair desperately in need of reupholstering. He studied her intently, wondering why she never drew her wand on him. There wasn't much he remembered about her, but he knew she was the brightest witch to cross the Hogwarts' threshold in a millennium. If she did hex him, he didn't stand a chance. "Is there something you're running from?" he finally asked. Hermione said nothing as she crossed her arms over her chest and remained stoic. "I get it. I'm the big, mean Slytherin, and I'm not to be trusted."

"No, you're a Death Eater, and that's why I don't trust you," she retorted, spinning on her heel to leave. Thinking better of it, she turned back to him. "Why haven't you tried to-"

"Hex you, hurt you, kill you?" he guessed, quirking a dark eyebrow. She didn't need to reply to give her answer. "The Ministry restricted my magic. I can't do anything in public, and what I can do at home is only the basics. So, now that I've answered your questions, I think it's time you answer some of mine. Why did you tell me last night that you're not Hermione Granger?"

Hermione leaned back against the nearest bookcase and sighed. "Because I'm not her anymore," she said sadly. "Please just let me be."

She had just made it to the door when he appeared behind her again. "I'm not him either, Hermione," Marcus said, pulling a small scrap of paper from his pocket. "Not anymore. It's probably hard to believe, but you can trust me. If you need anything, you can find me here."

Hermione looked dubiously at his offering, refusing to accept it. Reaching for her hand, Marcus opened her palm and placed his address in it before closing it. Marcus stepped back and Hermione opened her hand to glance at the scrap. "Why do you care?" she asked.

Pulling open the door, Marcus exited and stood on the front step. "I don't know yet if I do," he replied, "but I know Draco does."

He was halfway down the block when Hermione caught up to him. "What does Malfoy want with me?" she asked, holding his arm to keep him from leaving.

Shrugging, Marcus smirked. "Come to my flat with me and find out," he suggested. "We're not dangerous. Just come and talk to Malfoy, and then we'll leave you alone if that's what you want."

She wanted to say no, to tell him that there was no chance she would follow him to a house filled with Death Eaters. There was something in Marcus's words, the idea that someone like Draco Malfoy cared about her, that had one foot moving in front of the other until they reached the former Slytherin's flat. He led her inside, stopping in the sitting room for only a moment to hang up his coat.

"So, this is the living room," he stated. "Theo usually crashes on the sofa because Malfoy snores. Really, really loudly. His room is next to the one Adrian and I share. Kitchen's in the back. We never have food, which is good because none of us know how to work those blasted contraptions in there."

"Pretty tight quarters you have here," she observed, looking around the sparsely decorated front room. The walls were white, the floors hardwood, and two ratty sofas occupied much of the space. Books littered the coffee table and were stacked in piles on the floor.

Marcus led her down the small hallway. Three doors were shut, doors she assumed led to the two bedrooms and a bathroom. "Adrian's the only one who's here by choice," he explained when they entered the kitchen. "He can still access his family's vaults and convert it to muggle currency. His family wasn't too happy about his choice though, and has somewhat restricted his withdrawals. The rest of us have jobs to help pay the rent. Are you shocked?"

"A bit," she conceded. He directed her to a seat at the table as he made a pot of tea, admitting it was the one and only thing he could do in the kitchen. "So, is that where everyone else is - at work?"

Setting two mugs down on the table, Marcus nodded. A smirk settled on his lips when she scowled, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "Malfoy will be up soon," he said. "He works nights. Imagine, if you can, the great Draco Malfoy bussing tables and serving drinks to customers in a pub?"

Dumbfoundedly, Hermione shook her head. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been appointed Minister of Magic shortly after the war ended, and that was the last she'd heard of the world in which she once resided. She'd thought he would be a kind and compassionate minister, but to oust the children of Death Eaters seemed unwarranted.

Marcus grinned. "It could be worse. A life in Azkaban would have been far worse," he mused. "Besides, we were given a chance to start over. Most of us don't really hold it against the Ministry."

"Do you?" she asked, sipping her tea slowly.

There was a faraway look in his dark eyes as he shrugged. "Maybe, sometimes," he admitted. All he had known since birth was a world of magic. The only family he had were members of Voldemort's legion, and he knew from a young age that he would be made to join as well. When the war ended, he accepted his fate, but knew he didn't have to be happy about it.

Before any more could be said between the pair, the kitchen door swung open to reveal a tired Draco Malfoy. One fist rubbed the sleep from his slate colored eyes while the other hand held the door from hitting him.

"Hi, Malfoy," Hermione greeted him timidly.

His eyes widened. "Hermione."


	3. Chapter 3

I'm supposed to be entering specs for a new title, but posting a new chapter is practically the same thing.

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><p>Chapter 3<br>Marcus took his friend's entrance as his cue to leave. He flashed a small, reassuring smile Hermione's way before leaving the former classmates alone. Draco quietly slipped into the seat Marcus had formerly occupied and stared wide eyed at the girl in front of him. "You look good," he said.

Hermione leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. "I bought a hair straightener and get eight hours of sleep every night," she retorted. "Flint said you wanted to speak with me. Why?"

Color filled his cheeks as he averted his eyes for the first time since he sat down. "To say thank you," he mumbled. He thought she hadn't heard, but her scoff was confirmation enough. He shot her an indignant look as he continued, "I mean it. If it hadn't been for you, I'd of burned up in that room. So, thank you, Granger."

"You're welcome," she replied unconvincingly.

"I remember seeing _The Daily Prophet_ the next day, the one proclaiming the Dark Lord was dead and that you'd disappeared," he said, standing up to make himself a cup of coffee. "I'm not sure which was bigger news. Do you ever dream about it? The war, I mean."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. Every night, as her head hit the pillow and sleep claimed her, images of the war and the years proceeding it came back. She saw Tonks and Remus Lupin, she saw the face of the first man she killed, she saw her childhood home burned to the ground when she returned from a year on the run with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The events of her former life plagued her mind every minute of the day. "Sometimes," she finally admitted, wondering why they were sharing this with one another.

Draco returned to the table with a mug in hand and set it down. "Is that why you left?" he asked.

She shook her head as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "You can't run from your memories, Malfoy," she stated, staring down into her tea. "Look, um, my reasons for leaving are a bit private, and you and I don't know each other well enough to divulge our deepest secrets. Tell Flint I said thank you for the tea." Then she stood and left the kitchen.

Marcus was arranging the pillows after folding up the pullout sofa bed when Hermione ran by. "Granger!" he called out, hoping to stop her.

Hand on the doorknob, Hermione had half a mind to ignore him and leave. The more sensitive, gentler sides of these two Slytherin men scared her, and she knew she should want nothing to do with either of them. As if she were under the Imperius curse, she let go of the door and turned to face him.

"You're alone, right?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke to her. "I mean, you live alone. I didn't mean to imply that you're lonely or anything."

If she were being honest with herself, she was lonely. For five years, she had kept to herself, speaking to no one from her old life and staying under the radar in the muggle world. Often, she feared being spotted by someone magical who ventured into London. She'd stopped using magic just after the war in case it could be detected by the Ministry.

When she gave no reply, Marcus continued, "Just know that if there's anything you need, we're here, and we're not that far away from you. The four of us are kind of all each other has, and I remember how difficult it was to adjust to this world, so -"

"I was raised here," she interrupted. "It was fine."

Marcus nodded, knowing when his words were not wanted. Acknowledging that he would say no more, he opened the door for her and watched Hermione leave. Not until after she disappeared around the corner did he close the door. There was something intriguing about the muggleborn witch, something that drew Marcus to her. If only he could put his finger on what it was exactly.

"Granger left?" Draco asked, emerging from the kitchen with the bowl of cereal in hand. He received a nod from his friend who took a seat on the now converted sofa. "She seemed cagey." Draco joined him and continued to eat his breakfast.

"That's a good word for it," Marcus mumbled in reply. "Did she say why she left? She's a witch, she belongs there."

Draco shrugged. "Didn't say much of anything to me," he replied. "There was a raid in August, right before I started seventh year. The Death Eaters were looking for her, knowing that if they took her out Potter didn't stand much of a chance. They burned her home to the ground after killing her parents. The odd thing my father told me was that they seemed to not know who she was, like she'd wiped their memories or something."

Marcus paled. He'd been assigned to that raid, but pretended he'd gotten lost. Along with Theo, they'd Apparated a town over and stayed there until the late hours of the night. Neither boy had wanted to be a part of the carnage that was sure to ensue, much as they hadn't wanted to be forced into service under the Dark Lord. They'd both been punished for not following orders, but in Marcus's mind, it was better than hurting innocent people.

"No wonder she doesn't like us," Marcus said, frowning. "She probably thinks we were involved."

"You were involved," Draco retorted, setting his empty bowl on the coffee table. "My father said you and Nott were there, but were too cowardly to do any real damage."

The older man shook his head. "It wasn't cowardice so much as an attack of conscience," he rebuked. "Can you honestly say you enjoyed carrying out that sick bastard's tasks?"

Draco shook his head as he remembered his own task. He'd spent the majority of his sixth year trying to find a way out of committing murder, but in the end, Albus Dumbledore, the beloved Headmaster, still died. "I hated it all," he agreed. "At least you didn't have to sit through the meetings, listening to his raspy voice and watching as people died in your home. I've heard enough screams to last me a lifetime."

Marcus rested his hand on the young wizard's shoulder. "We'll show her we aren't those people anymore," he vowed. "We'll prove to her that she can trust us."

"I hope you're right."


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter was so much fun to write. It's a bit humorous, in my opinion at least. So, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it.

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><p>Chapter 4<br>What had started out as a bad day turned into a bad stretch of years of Hermione Granger. Her life had been a topsy-turvy whirlwind of pain, heartache, and loss since she passed through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the young age of eleven. There had been good times too, she reminded herself, but the scars of the bad times were a constant reminder of all she had lived through.

For half a decade she'd managed to live as inconspicuously as possible. She worked in the bookshop, rented a small, one bedroom flat just blocks from work, and hadn't seen her wand since she stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron into muggle London in the early morning hours of May 3, 1998. Life was normal, quiet, and peaceful.

Until the Slytherins entered her life.

She had occasionally seen Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey in the bookshop, but was able to make herself scarce until they left. Being spotted by Death Eaters put a crimp in her ability to lead an anonymous life. She'd considered running, but then she remembered Malfoy's and Flint's words that they'd had spoken only days earlier. Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, had _thanked_ her. Flint, with his dark, mysterious eyes and penchant for frowning, had insinuated that Malfoy had been waiting for years for the opportunity to talk to her. It was disconcerting how two men who were supposed to hate her seemed so apologetic for their past behavior.

"Hey, Granger!" a friendly sounding voice shouted from across the street.

Brows furrowed, Hermione snapped back to the present and searched for the man so enthusiastically trying to get her attention. Finally she spotted Adrian Pucey as he dodged traffic to join her. "You know it'll hurt if one of those cars hits you," she pointed out, continuing toward the market just a block from the bookstore.

Adrian fell into step beside her and nodded solemnly. "Yeah, poor Theo found that out the hard way," he shared. Hermione turned her head sharply, her mouth open in surprise. "It was our...third day here. For the first two we were just busy getting situated, and I'll admit, we were a bit scared of the mu...the town. So, finally, we decide to suck it up and venture out. Theo stepped right off the curb as a car was turning the corner, and it hit him. No real damage to him or the car though, just a bit of a fractured wrist."

"Were you allowed to use magic to heal it?" she wondered.

Adrian pulled open the door and allowed her to enter first. "The three of them can't, but I could," he answered, handing her a basket. "I try to keep it to a minimum, partly because I feel bad. I know you and Marcus have spoken a couple of times, but I didn't know how much he's told you."

They browsed the produce aisle in silence as she bagged a couple of just ripened tomatoes. "You didn't have to come here," she said quietly.

"To the market? Have you seen our ice box? It's all takeaway cartons and a box of baking soda the landlady suggested we keep in there," Adrian joked.

Hermione inspected a bushel of apples. "I meant the muggle world," she muttered. "You weren't involved."

Chuckling, he examined a pineapple before putting it back down. "You Gryffindors don't have the loyalty market cornered, Granger. We Slytherins know a thing or two about friendship."

"I didn't mean to imply-"

Adrian shook his head to cut her off. "I didn't say you were," he said. "There are a lot of old, pureblood families in our world. The Notts, Flints, Malfoys, Zabinis, that whole lot has grown up together for centuries. Flint and I have known each other since our nappy days. He's been like a brother to me. I couldn't just say goodbye and go about my life when their families were exiled. The three of them are more like a family to me than my own."

They rounded the next aisle and continued shopping. She thought of the friends she had left behind in order to move on with her life. Harry and Ginny had probably married, perhaps even had their first child. Ron would find someone easily. Though she believed she had loved him once upon a time, she was sure they weren't right for one another. The majority of their friendship had been occupied with school lessons and battling evil. They'd never known "normal" together, and she feared they might not have survived it together. Being on her own was easier.

"You ever miss it?" Adrian asked, reading the nutritional contents on two different boxes of breakfast cereal. "Home, I mean."

She selected her usual brand of granola and slipped it into her basket. "I don't know that it was ever home," she murmured.

Deciding it was a subject she seemed less than eager to discuss, Adrian continued on through the store. "You should come to dinner some time," he decided as he watched her examine two identical packages of chicken. When she looked up, he pretended to do the same. "We'll order out if it makes you more comfortable. The most we've managed to cook over the years is canned soup and cereal. Not together though."

"That's not cooking," Hermione replied with a laugh as she placed her chicken amongst her other purchases.

Adrian led her to the dairy aisle and pulled out a jug of milk. "Au contraire, my dear Granger," he objected. "If it has more than three steps, it's cooking. For instance, step one - open can. Step two - pour in bowl. Step three - heat for two minutes. Step four - wait one to two minutes as the soup _will_ be hot. We've all learned that lesson the hard way."

She couldn't help but giggle at his antics. "Right, but cereal is only two steps," she replied. "Unless you add fruit, and given the contents of your shopping cart, you don't."

Adrian led her to check out and flashed her a smile. "Did you forget the stir to combine step?" he inquired with the utmost seriousness.

"I must have," she replied as they unloaded their groceries. He walked her back to her flat after each paid for their bundles. Adrian had generously offered to carry her bags, but was secretly glad when she refused. "You didn't have to walk me back," she said politely when they reached her doorstep.

Shrugging, he set his bags down by his feet and stretched his arms back. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?" he asked. "Besides, my mum would kill me if she found out I let you walk home alone. Anyhow, I had a nice time with you."

A hint of a smile quirked up the corners of Hermione's lips when she noticed the blush that stained Adrian's cheeks. "I did too," she admitted. "It's, um, it's been awhile since someone's made me laugh like that."

"So then, you'll consider coming to dinner?" he asked, a mischievous smile alighting his blue eyes. "And using our first names? Really, it's just improper all this 'Malfoy this' and 'Granger that' rubbish we get up to."

Setting down her bags, she dug through her purse for her keys. "I don't think that's such a good idea," she muttered. "Given the history I have with Malfoy, and how awkward it was the last time I was there. I'm sure the others don't really want me around. I haven't even seen Nott since you lot started bothering me."

Reaching out, Adrian took hold of her wrist to halt her movements. "It was their idea," he informed her. "It's all Draco and Marcus have talked about for days. Theo pretty much goes with the flow. I promise, upon pain of death, that everyone will be on their best behavior. No talk of bloodlines, the war, the wizarding world, or Flint's recent obsession with following you to that bookstore. We can and must discuss the time you slapped Draco, however. Perhaps you could give us some tips on technique."

"You're awful," she said with a chuckle. "Is getting my hand back contingent upon saying yes to dinner?" Her eyes remained focused on his large hand, which easily encompassed her wrist until his fingers overlapped.

"Say yes, and I'll let go," he said.

Standing a step below her now, they were just about eye level, and she could see the twinkle in his clear blue eyes. His eyes reminded her of Ron, and she realized just how much she missed having a friend. "Yes," she replied.


	5. Chapter 5

I got the new Tivo Premiere for my birthday, which allows me to watch youtube videos on my TV. I spent all of last night watching A Very Potter Musical...for about the 100th time. Tonight I start rewatching the sequel! There's something great about having an older brother who's technology obsessed, and thus willing to buy neat gadgets I'd otherwise never buy for myself.

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><p>Chapter 5<br>Hermione stared at the blueberry cobbler on her counter for the seventh time since pulling it from the oven. With each glance she reminded herself that she shouldn't go. It had to be a trap. Perhaps the Death Eaters had reformed in muggle London, hellbent on exacting their revenge against the Ministry and those who fought to defeat them.

Just as she was about to put the cobbler into the refrigerator and skip dinner all together, she heard a knock on her front door. "Who could that be?" she asked herself as she crossed the short distance from the kitchen to the door. Looking through the peephole, she spotted Adrian on the other side and groaned. Flipping the lock, she opened the door to glare at the tall blond across from her. "What are you doing here?" she inquired.

"Told you I was a gentleman," he replied, entering her flat. He caught the sour expression she wore as he passed her without invitation. "Something smells good," he added, sniffing the air.

"Air freshener," she lied. "What are you doing here?"

Adrian turned to assess her. Dressed in faded jeans and a dark blue turtleneck sweater, the only thing missing were her shoes. "You don't look ready to go," he decided, furrowing his brows as his eyes swept the living room for suitable footwear. As if he could read her thoughts, he asked, "You weren't planning on backing out, were you?"

Hermione seemed embarrassed as she answered. "Maybe. It may have crossed my mind."

Finally located a matching pair of shoes, Adrian picked them up. Then he took hold of her arm and led her to the sofa to sit. "Don't make me put them on you," he warned, smiling as she accepted the trainers he presented to her. "You do that, and I'm going to find out the source of that incredible smell."

"Stay out of my kitchen," she called after him as she laced up the right sneaker. When she'd finished, Adrian returned with her cobbler in hand. His eyes twinkled with a hopeful, unasked question. "Yes, that's for dinner. No, you can't have any now. Let's just get this over with."

"That's the spirit," he muttered as he used one hand to help Hermione into her coat. The walk to his flat was quiet. Adrian noticed that she seemed distracted until he unlocked his front door and called out to his roommates that he'd returned.

"Oh, hi," a thin figure greeted them from his reclined position on the sofa. It wasn't until Adrian sternly cleared his throat that he closed his book with a heavy sigh and looked up. "Granger, right? We had Potions together a few times."

"Care of Magical Creatures as well," she replied, slipping off her coat.

Theo Nott sat up, pushing dark shaggy brown locks away from his green eyes. "Guess this means we can eat now," he stated, getting to his feet. "We might want to just skip to dessert though. Whose idea was it to allow Draco to handle supper?"

"Don't worry," Marcus said calmly, shutting the door to his bedroom. "He got the food from work. We'll be safe." He winked in Hermione's direction and took her coat to hang in the closet. Adrian left the small group to put their dessert in the icebox, sure she would be alright with the pair.

"So, Nott, what is it you do?" Hermione asked, taking a seat on the sofa beside Marcus, while Theo occupied the larger couch.

Theo picked up a hardcover book and examined the spine. "I work in the local library," he replied. "Marc and Ade tell me you work in that bookshop a couple blocks from here. I've been in there a couple of times. The thing I love about second hand texts is the smell. They've got some age behind them, but they've been loved. You really get that when you look through them."

"Quick, change the topic. He'll never shut up," Marcus advised, speaking in a hushed tone so only Hermione would hear.

She smiled politely as Theo spoke, glad to be around another bibliophile. "We just got in this rare copy of Byron poetry," she shared. "You should stop by to check it out. The leather is still in near perfect condition. It's quite beautiful."

"Does this mean you won't be leaving?" Marcus interjected, eyeing her hopefully.

Hermione stared at the nearest stack of books, reading each title silently as she replied, "I haven't decided yet."

"London's not so bad once you get used to it," Theo commented, tugging on the fringe of a throw pillow tucked beneath his left arm. "At least when you moved here you didn't have to share a room with a guy who snores louder than Hagrid."

"How do you know how loudly Hagrid snores?" Draco inquired, joining the conversation. "Dinner's ready, by the way."

Theo tossed the pillow aside and rose from the sofa. "Just a guess," he muttered, exiting the sitting room first.

Hermione stood next. "Hagrid probably does have a terrible snore," she agreed. Draco and Marcus followed behind her. Theo was already seated as Adrian placed two more drinking glasses on the table. Marcus pulled out his usual chair and directed Hermione to sit while he took the folding chair beside her. She eyed the spread before her - fried, cod, shepard's pie, steak and kidney pie, and large pile of chips. Adrian had filled their glasses with pumpkin juice and set a salad near the edge of the table. "It looks good," Hermione commented as the salad was passed to her.

"I work at Miller's Pub," Draco told her, spearing a piece of fish. "The customers are always drunk, but the food is deliciously greasy."

"They're thinking of printing that on their sign," Adrian joked.

Dinner was an entertaining affair as she listened to the four friends joke and heckle one another. Not once did their tight knit friendship make her feel excluded, but rather they drew her into their stories and she shared some of her own. Draco had turned a bright shade of crimson when Marcus and Adrian attempted to goad her into telling them about the slap heard 'round the world. Hermione merely smiled at Draco and declined.

With dinner and dessert out of the way, Hermione politely declined their offer of after dinner drinks. Adrian and Theo had started to clean up as she bade them goodbye. "Wait, Hermione," Draco stopped her as she pulled her coat on. "Let me walk you home."

If she was shocked, she didn't allow it to show. Instead, she nodded and waited for him to dress for the cold evening. They walked in silence for a block before curiosity got the better of her. "I don't understand why the four of you have taken such an interest in me," she said, doing her best to avoid looking at the tall blond by her side.

"I'm not surprised," he replied. "Slytherins and Gryffindors, and in particular, you and I, have always been rivals. The war changed all of that though, at least for me. This experience, living here in the muggle world, has made me realize that I don't want to be the same person I was there. You could have let me die in the Room of Requirement, Hermione, but you didn't. You gave me a second chance, and I've thought about that for years. I really did mean it when I said thank you."

He had talked all the way to her apartment building. She stood on the first step by the time he'd finished as a blush crept into his cheeks as he spoke with unexpected candor. "I really did have a nice time tonight," she told him. "It's been a long time since I've had dinner with someone who wasn't my cat. It felt like I had friends again."

Leaning down, Draco pressed a delicate kiss to her cheek. "We're here for you, Hermione, for whatever you need," he promised. "Have a good night."

"You too, Draco," she replied, smiling as she entered her building.


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend is here! I envy all of you who got today off for Veteran's Day. I'm proud to say that my dad is a Vietnam vet, and the best guy I know. One of my favorite things to do is listen to his stories, and even if I've heard them (twenty times) before, I can't help but be awed by what he's lived through.

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<br>It was far too early in the morning for anyone to knock on their door, Theo decided as he climbed off of the sofa bed. Disheveled locks of brown hair hung in his eyes, which he impatiently pushed away as he opened the door to alleviate the incessant pounding. "Please tell me you came to cook us breakfast. Otherwise, I see no reason for you to be here this early," he groused when he saw Hermione.

"Not a morning person, are you," she quipped, letting herself in. "Chocolate chip pancakes alright with you?"

Theo's eyes brightened minutely at the promise of a warm, delicious breakfast, and he nodded. "The others are still sleeping," he informed her, leading her to the kitchen as he spoke. "I can wake them if you'd like."

Hermione shook her head as she looked through the cabinets for a fry pan. "Let them sleep," she said as she started on the batter. "Draco called last night when his shift ended just after midnight. He didn't sound so good," she commented, cracking a couple of eggs.

Theo set the table as she cooked. "He doesn't drink," he replied while folding five napkins in half. "I imagine it is exhausting work though. Why'd he call you?"

She dropped a ladle-full of batter onto the skillet and listened to it sizzle. "To talk, I guess," she answered. "He mentioned that he and Marcus were going out to do some holiday shopping, and asked if I wanted to tag along. There's really no one to buy for though, is there?"

"I'm always amenable to gifts," he joked.

The kitchen door swung open. "Smells good," Marcus mumbled sleepily, ruffling the back of his hair. It was seconds later that he noticed Hermione standing at their stove, which quickly snapped him from his early morning haze. "How do you do that?" he asked, pointing to the stove.

Hermione laughed and began to plate the pancakes she'd already made before dropped four more dollops of batter down. "Doesn't even require magic," she retorted, receiving a kiss on her cheek from the older wizard.

"If these are good, we're keeping her," he decided, taking a seat at the table. Adrian and Draco joined them just as she finished and turned off the flame. Each took a seat and loaded their plates with pancakes. The clink of silverware and moans of delicious delight were all that was heard in the small kitchen. "It's official, we're keeping her," Marcus declared as he finished off his fourth pancake.

"I second that," Theo agreed, his mouth full as he spoke.

Adrian, who was seated beside him, slapped the back of his head. "That's rude and disgusting. There's a lady at the table," he chastised. He looked across the table at Hermione, hoping she would feel the same way.

"It doesn't bother me. I've shared many a meal with Ron Weasley," she told them.

Draco swallowed before asking, "What brought this on?"

Turning, she looked past Marcus and smiled at the blond. "Thought I would return the favor for the dinner you invited me to," she replied with a simple shrug of her shoulders. "Besides, I've seen what Adrian buys at the market. One cup of yogurt and a box of cereal isn't going to get the four of you very far."

"This all seems very friendly," Theo commented, leaning forward on the table. A hint of a smile quirked up the corners of his lips as he eyed the witch across from him.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat under his gaze, and couldn't help but look down at her maple syrup-covered plate. Beneath the table, Marcus gave her knee a comforting squeeze. Brown eyes met brown quickly. "It just seemed like a nice thing to do," she mumbled. Pushing Marcus's hand away from her leg, she rose from seat. "Excuse me for a minute."

Once more Adrian hit the man beside him once Hermione had left the room. "Had to say something stupid, didn't you," he muttered. He glanced across the table at Marcus; a silent plea to join him. The two older men rose and exited the kitchen in search of the witch. The three doors that lined the hallway were closed, but from behind one they could hear the distinct sound of sniffling. Softly, Adrian knocked on the door before entering.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bathtub, a few tissues in hand as she stared out the window. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," she admitted, too embarrassed to face them.

Marcus moved to her side while Adrian sat on the toilet lid across from her. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Theo can be a bit of a moron sometimes," Marcus offered, resting a tentative hand on her back.

"It's not that," she replied, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. "I've been completely on my own these past five years, and I was fine with that. I've lost so many people over the years that I thought it would be easier to just cut myself off from everyone."

"Perhaps you've lived that way for too long," Adrian said, his tone gentle as he rubbed her knee. "It might not be so terrible to have someone to talk to, Hermione."

"You don't have to worry about losing us," Marcus seconded. "The four of us aren't going anywhere."

Hermione leaned into Marcus's side, glad for the arm he'd wrapped around her shoulders. She had missed the warm comfort of a friendly hug. It reminded her of the times when Harry would hold her hand or Ron would drape his arm over shoulders when he intended to suck up to her. She missed _contact_, and these four Slytherin men were offering her the chance to get close to someone again. It scared her how easily they had managed to ingratiate themselves into her life. But, even more, it scared how how quickly she had allowed it to happen. Her plans to flee London after being discovered were now long forgotten, thanks to the four of them.

When her sniffling stopped, Marcus asked, "Feeling a bit better now?"

"I find cleaning up the kitchen to be a great way to make yourself feel better," Adrian joked, receiving a small flash of a smile from Hermione. He rose from his seat and held out a hand to help her up. "Only kidding. That's what we have Theo for."

The trio exited the bathroom just as Draco appeared to enter his room. His gaze swept down to the joined hands of Hermione and Adrian, and a frown turned down his lips. "Feeling alright?" he asked.

"A bit better," she told him. "I think a little shopping will cure my blues though."

His frown morphed into a smile. "I'll get ready then."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Hermione had only just sat down with a mug of hot chocolate and a movie ready in the DVD player when her phone rang. Lifting the receiver to her ear, she hardly let the "Hello" pass her lips before a familiar voice demanded that she come over.

"Marcus, I'm busy," she lied.

"No, she's not," she heard Theo yell in the background.

"I don't think I'm okay with the four of you knowing how to work a telephone," she decided, turning on the television to queue up the movie. It was her mother's favorite Christmas movie - _It's a Wonderful Life_ - and she'd watched it alone every year since losing her parents.

Marcus ignored her comment. "We just put up our tree," he told her, sounding as happy as a small child. "I thought you might like to come over and help us decorate."

She glanced towards the empty left-hand corner near the front windows. It was the place her parents had always designated for their Christmas tree when she was younger. She hadn't once put up a tree or a single stitch of holiday decoration since moving into her flat. "I don't know," she wavered tiredly, wanting to do nothing but watch her movie and think about the life she could have had if not for the war.

"It'll be fun," he replied. "We'll put on some carols, Adrian will put too much rum in the eggnog, Theo and Draco will argue over if the lights or garland go on first."

"And what will you do?" she wondered.

"Hang back and watch them with you," he told her confidently. "So, what do you say? Will you come over?"

She had already pushed the play button, watching the opening credits roll on her screen. The black and white picture suddenly seemed more depressing than it had in years' past. Marcus was presenting her with the opportunity to start a new holiday tradition. She wondered if she was getting ahead of herself as she paused the movie and turned off the television. "Is there anything I can bring?" she asked, slipping her feet into a pair of boots.

"Nothing I can think of, just yourself," he replied. "See you soon."

Hermione disconnected the call as she wound her scarf around her neck. There was something about decorating a Christmas tree that filled her with a joy she hadn't felt in years. After pulling on her coat and grabbing her keys, she exited her flat to join the Slytherins.

The fight was already in progress when she arrived. Marcus could only laugh as he let her in and helped her out of her heavy, winter coat. "Who usually wins?" she asked as he led her into the living room.

"Well, the first year we had a little bout of accidental magic which rendered Theo unconscious, thus giving Draco the lights victory," he explained. "The next year, Theo put the tinsel on before any of us were awake. The last two years they've fought about it, but in the end, Adrian and I step in to sort it out. Maybe this year we should let you decide."

Theo and Draco stopped arguing just long enough to greet her before Adrian appeared with a tray of eggnog. When she had a small cup in hand, Draco stopped her hand to moving toward her mouth. "You don't want to drink that," he cautioned. "It's only about one-eighth eggnog."

Nodding, she set down the cup and offered him an appreciative smile. "I never much liked tinsel," she whispered. With a triumphant smile, Draco announced that there should be no tinsel on the tree, per Hermione's wishes. She blushed a deep scarlet when the green eyes of Theodore Nott glowered at her. "Sorry," she murmured, offering him a smile.

Theo took a seat beside Adrian on the sofa as Draco and Marcus strung the multicolored lights, asking Hermione to point out any spots they may have missed. With the lights completed, Marcus opened a large container filled with ornaments. One by one, each roommate claimed an ornament and hung it on the tree. Theo reached for a second when he noticed Hermione watching. "Not planning to help?" he asked, handing her a blue bauble. With a small nudge, he moved her towards the tree. She surveyed the branches for the best spot, and spotting the perfect one, hung the ornament.

"What's got you in such a happy mood?" Marcus asked when he noticed the grin she wore. "Didn't sample the eggnog, did you?"

Hermione shook her head, but her smile never slipped from her face. "I didn't realize how much I've missed this," she replied, watching as her new friends continued to decorate their tree. "I must admit I've been a bit of a Scrooge these last few years."

With his arm around her shoulders, Hermione leaned into Marcus's side as the decorating continued. "What are you plans for Christmas?" he wondered.

Her shoulders rose only slightly before dropping back down. "I usually visit my parents," she said sadly. "I had headstones made for them and planted at the local cemetery since there were no bodies. Then I usually just go home and read or watch some television."

Draco, she noticed, had turned away from the tree and had given her his full attention. "What if we all had dinner here?" he suggested, not bothering to apologize for eavesdropping.

"That could be fun," Hermione agreed. "But what about your families? You don't do anything with them for the holidays?"

Theo chuckled mirthlessly as he spun a small, round, green ornament around on its string. "My father still hopes the Dark Lord will rise up victorious once more," he replied. "Flint's father isn't much different from mine. Draco's parents might still love him, but he hasn't spoken to them in years. And then there's Ade, who turned his back on his family's beliefs to come live in the muggle word."

"The short answer would have been no," Adrian cut in, glaring pointedly as his friend ended his diatribe. "When I was a kid, Christmas was the one day of the year that my mother would allow me to spend the entire day in my pajamas."

"We did that too," Hermione shared. "My mum and dad would wake up every morning that we had the tree up to find me asleep under it. I would sneak down in the middle of the night, turn the tree lights on, and just stare up at them until I fell asleep."

Marcus, who had remained silent since the conversation began, saw the joy in the young woman's brown eyes as she shared her family's Christmas traditions. "We can do that here," he suggested, interrupting her as she told them about the cinnamon rolls her mother made every year for breakfast. Hermione immediately shut her mouth and stared quizzically at the man by her side. "You could sleep over here on Christmas Eve, and we'll do all the things we did when we were younger. We'll even let you sleep under the tree if you'd like."

"Or you could take my old bed," Theo offered. "Bring earplugs."

Hermione chuckled when Draco punched Theo's shoulder, letting him know he wasn't happy about his dig. "How about I think about it and get back to you," she replied.

Draco nodded in agreement, hoping her answer would be yes.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
>Draco and Marcus entered the bookshop a week prior to Christmas Eve, knowing Hermione's shift was almost over. She was behind the counter with a book open in front of her when the bell above the door jingled. After bookmarking her page, she looked up and smiled at the latest arrivals. "I didn't expect to see you tonight," she greeted them, pressing a kiss to each man's cheek when he neared her.<p>

"I need to find a gift for Theo," Marcus replied, "and then Draco and I planned to grab some dinner before his shift starts."

"Did you have anything in mind?" she asked, rounding the corner to act as his guide through the shop.

"Pasta maybe. Perhaps fish and chips," Draco replied with a cheeky smile.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Does the conversation always have to be about you?" he wondered. Hermione laughed as she led them to the poetry aisle, pointing out various authors she was sure Theo would enjoy. "Poetry's just so...boring," he groused, slipping the book she'd handed him back onto the shelf.

"But Theo likes poetry," Hermione pointed out. "Gift giving is about what the other person likes, not what you find interesting."

Leaning against the shelf across from them, Draco snorted. "Have you ever heard Nott discuss poetry?" he inquired. "First, he gets really moody while reading it. Then, once he's finished, he waxes philosophical about it for hours while attempting to get the three of us to agree with him. He's a nightmare. Though, I think you might find it enjoyable."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not sure which one of us should be more insulted by that, Draco," she commented. She and Marcus left the row then as Draco watched them go.

"I didn't mean for that to sound like a bad thing to you. You like books," he finally said, catching up to them two aisles over. He pushed by Marcus and took hold of Hermione's hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She smiled and stood on the balls of her feet to press a kiss to Draco's cheek. "It's fine," she assured him. "I know you didn't mean anything bad by it."

Behind them, Marcus cleared his throat to remind them he was still there. "What about that Byron book you told him about?" he inquired, hoping to finish his shopping as quickly as possible.

"It's a bit...it might be a little out of...it's," she stuttered, worried that he would be upset with her when she told him the price. Marcus raised his eyebrows as she fidgeted nervously with her hands. "One aisle to the left."

With a nod of his head, he walked over to where she'd told him to go, leaving Hermione alone with Draco. When they were alone, Draco took hold of her shaking hand and gave it a squeeze. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"What if he can't afford it?" she wondered, her voice just above a whisper. "It's a bit expensive, after all. I get a discount that he could use towards it, but even then-"

"Don't worry about it," Draco replied. "Marcus has always been smart about his money. He's not going to hold the price against you."

"Found it!" Marcus announced, returning with the book in hand. He stopped only momentarily, glancing down at the joined hands of his friends, before schooling his features to something more neutral. "So, by the time you ring this up, your shift is over, right? Want to grab some dinner with us?"

From the corner of her eye, Hermione glanced at Draco. A barely noticeable nod was all she needed before saying yes. Taking the book from Marcus, Hermione led them back to the front counter. "So, with my discount, your total comes to sixty-four pounds," she stated, eying Marcus warily as he thumbed through the bills in his wallet. He dropped the appropriate amount of money into her hand before taking the book. After depositing the money in the register, she locked it and glanced at the clock near the front window. The smile she wore suddenly slipped away. "I'll go grab my stuff and we'll go," she announced, quickly escaping to the back of the store.

Marcus furrowed his brow as he watched her go. "That was peculiar," he said.

"No, it's not," Draco replied, looking through the large window. "Take a look for yourself."

The older man turned and saw for the first time in five years Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Neither man had changed drastically. Harry's dark hair was still a mess, and he wore the same round, wire-rim glasses. Ron's bright red hair was easy to spot in the crowd. Draco turned to face Marcus, leaving his back to the glass, when Harry looked through the window.

Marcus, too, averted his gaze, but thought he heard Weasley mention Hermione. "You reckon they know she's here?" he asked quietly.

Draco shook his head, hoping the pair would soon be gone. "Adrian told me when he visited his parents last, he saw the headline on the latest issue of _The Prophet._ Apparently, the wizarding world had given up its search for her and declared her dead."

"They don't look too broken up about that," Marcus groused, his jaw clenched angrily. Hermione had been his friend for only a month, but he knew he would be devastated if he lost her.

"They've had a lot of time to get used to the idea of it," Draco assumed, breathing a sigh of relief when his former schoolyard enemies were out of sight. He understood his friend's anger. For years, he'd wished harm upon the Golden Trio. But from the moment Hermione had reentered his life, he felt a fierce loyalty toward her.

"I'm guessing you saw them too," Hermione stated sheepishly, a crimson tinge highlighting her cheeks and neck. Draco and Marcus nodded, but said nothing more. "I swear I didn't run away because I'm embarrassed to be seen with you."

"That's hadn't even crossed my mind," Marcus interjected.

She took a few steps closer to them until Marcus wrapped his arm around her shoulders. It was a great comfort to know she had their support and friendship, which made it easier to explain everything to them. "I left after the war with every intention of finding my parents," she told them. "Before the war, I modified their memories so I didn't exist. One of the memories I planted was a life-long desire to see Australia. I'd booked the tickets for them and everything.

"The night the war ended, I Apparated back to our house to make sure everything was in order before bringing them back," she continued. "The house had been burned to the ground, and their wedding rings rested on a Death Eater mask in the midst of the rubble. I never told Harry and Ron any of that, and I don't know that they know what happened to my mum and dad. I took off after that. Moved here and found a job. Well, you know the rest."

Marcus wound his left arm around her as well, holding her close in a tight embrace. "Why don't you want them to see you now?" he wondered.

"Because my parents' death was the final straw for me," she replied. "I won't go back to the wizarding world."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
>"I think she's afraid they'll drag her back," Draco admitted. The four friends were seated around the kitchen table, dinner finished, as they discussed the previous day's events.<p>

Theo scoffed. "They can't just force her to return."

"Granger's loyal," Adrian argued. "If Potter and Weasley give her a good enough reason she'll go right back to them."

Marcus, who until now had been silent, shook his head. "She's not going back," he said. "Drake, you saw the look in her eyes when she told us about her parents. She blames magic for the death of her parents, and I see where she's coming from. She feels safe here."

Theo thickly swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Yeah, but when she finds out that we were involved, or supposed to be involved, she'll never speak to any of us again," he said solemnly.

Adrian frowned. "But the two of you weren't actually there," he pointed out. "She can't hold you responsible for what happened."

Across from him, Draco rubbed his jaw as if remembering the time he'd been hit by the spirited witch. "They were supposed to be there. For as logical as Hermione is, when it comes to her family, I doubt she'll see this reasonably," he replied. "It wasn't all that long ago that she thought we were out to get her."

"So, then we don't tell her," Adrian decided.

Theo rose from the table and moved to the sink to begin washing the dishes. "And if she finds out on her own somehow?" he wondered. "What if Potter and Weasley corner her? They probably know what happened to her parents. Ade, you said they're Aurors. The Ministry probably knows exactly who partook in that raid."

Draco brightened as an idea occurred to him. "Then we don't let them see her," he stated. Beside him, Marcus groaned. "Think about it, she doesn't want to see them. If the four of us keep her busy often enough, we should be okay."

Pushing his chair back, Marcus rose. "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard."

"Where are you going?" Adrian inquired when he pushed open the kitchen door. Marcus gave no reply as he continued on his way. "You think he's going to see Hermione?" Neither man needed to reply; they all knew the answer was yes.

Hermione smiled as she hung the last ornament on her tree. For the first time in half a decade, she felt the urge to decorate for the holidays, and she had the Slytherins to thank for improving her mood. Despite the beliefs the four men had been raised with, they had willingly accepted her into their family with open arms.

The front door opened as she stepped back to evaluate her work. Her head turned momentarily, and a smile lit her face. "Well, this is a surprise," she said when she saw Marcus. "Just getting off of work?"

He shook his head as nervous fingers pushed through his dark hair. "No, I had tonight off," he replied. "The place looks nice."

"Thanks. You guys kind of inspired me," she said. "Would you help me put the star on the top? I can't reach."

She handed him a delicate, gold star. He turned it over in his hands to find an inscription on the back - _Henry, Jean, Hermione, 1979_ - it read. Quietly, he stood in front of the tree and easily slipped the star on to the highest point. "From your first Christmas," he guessed.

She nodded, her eyes transfixed on the ornament. "It was in my parents' storage unit," she told him. "My parents married on Christmas Eve, and the star was a wedding gift. My dad had it engraved just after I was born."

"It's beautiful," he murmured, reaching for her hand. Instinctively, Hermione moved closer and leaned against his side. "I guess you won't need to sleep beneath our tree now."

She frowned doubtfully at him. "Do you not want me to come over for Christmas?" she asked.

Shaking his head, he turned so they were face to face. His free hand rose to cup her soft, warm cheek. "Of course we want you there," he replied, smiling softly. "_I_ want you there." Leaning down, he gently brushed his lips against hers for only a second before pulling back.

Hermione's eyes were closed, her breath heavy as if he'd just ravished her. Opening her eyes, she smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

His arms tightened around her waist. "What for?" he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"The way I reacted towards you at first," she continued. "I was so sure you were going to hurt me, that the whole lot of you were still Death Eaters. If it hadn't been for you, I'd still be alone."

His resolve slipped as she kissed him. It had been his sole intention to tell her the truth she deserved to know. Then he saw the way she lit up when he entered her flat. Her brown eyes were always full of excitement when she was around them, and it was something he wanted to see for the rest of his days. Telling her the truth about Theo's and his involvement in her parents' death would change it all.

"You know we will never hurt you," he promised. "You're one of us now, Hermione; a part of the family."

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded. "Did you come over just to tell me that?" she asked, pulling away just enough to dab away the moisture before it could fall down her cheeks.

Shaking his head, he pulled out of her embrace and distanced himself from her. "There's something you need to know," he said, looking away from her. He couldn't bear to see tears in her eyes, especially when he was the cause. "It's about the night your parents were killed."

Hermione listened without speaking as he told her about Theo's and his involvement that night. He told her how they had purposely gone to a different location to wait it out, knowing that killing innocent muggles was something they couldn't bring themselves to do. She said nothing when he told her of their punishment at the hands of Voldemort. Finally, his story finished, he apologized profusely.

The tears had dried in her eyes and her lips set into a straight line. "Thank you for telling me," she finally said. "Um, if you don't mind, I have some work to do that I brought home from the shop, so I should get started on that."

"Hermione," he pleaded, taking half a step forward.

Holding up a hand to silence him, she shook her head. "It's fine," she replied. "I'm fine. I appreciate you telling me what happened."

Understanding that she wanted him to leave, Marcus said goodbye and let himself out. It was only after the door clicked shut that she let herself cry.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
>Just days before Christmas, Adrian entered the bookshop in hopes of speaking to Hermione. He had hoped that his lack of involvement in the war would mean she would talk to him, but she had successfully avoided the four of them since learning about her parents' last minutes a week before. Through the window he saw her arranging the newest titles on a small table near the front of the shop. Her back was to him as he opened the door and softly said her name.<p>

Turning her head slightly, she gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Hi. What are you doing here?" she asked, going back to her task. "Some last minute shopping perhaps? Or maybe you heard about those fancy bookmarks we just got in. Because I know you didn't come here to talk to me about Flint or Nott or Malfoy."

Adrian groaned. "Back to that whole last name thing again, are we?" he muttered, following her to the third aisle where she began to stock the shelves. "Look, I don't condone what the three of them did as Death Eaters, and frankly, I thought it was stupid of Marcus to tell you. But I can't deny that maybe, possibly, he did the right thing. You've known us just a little over a month, Hermione. Imagine how you'd feel if you found out months or years down the line. Marcus and Theo chose _not_ to participate and accepted the consequences."

"And they did nothing to stop the rest of them from torturing my parents and burning down their home in order to kill them," she finished for him. "Ya know, I was fine before the four of you invaded my life. You should have just left me alone."

Reaching forward, he took the book from her hand. "Yeah, well, we didn't," he retorted. "Sure, life would have been easier if you'd continued through it all on your own. What the hell kind of life is that though? You were lonely, even if you won't admit it. We _are_ your friends, Hermione."

She said nothing as she continued stocking the shelves. Though she had admired Marcus for his honesty, there was still a sense of betrayal that he'd planned to participate in the act that claimed the lives of her parents. She knew that they hadn't had a choice, but did what they could to avoid causing harm. But she had looked for someone to blame for five years, and now she had two people.

"Don't push us away, please, Hermione," Adrian implored, gently holding her arm.

She looked down at the hand touching her. Had it not been for her trip to the market with Adrian, she never would have befriended Draco, Marcus, and Theo. That chance meeting had set everything in motion. For the first time in half a decade she had been honestly and truly happy, and it was all their doing.

"I just...need a little time, Ade," she finally replied. "I love the four of you, and I haven't been so happy in a really long time. Eventually I'll come to the conclusion that Marcus and Theo had no control over what they were tasked to do and they chose to defy Voldemort, but now isn't that time."

Leaning down, Adrian kissed her cheek. "I know," he murmured. "But it's like Marcus told you, you'll never lose us. When you're up to it, we'll be here."

With a smile on her lips, she nodded. "Thanks, Ade."

He kissed her cheek once more before exiting the shop. After crossing the street, he rounded the corner and entered the sporting goods store where Marcus worked. He spotted Marcus by a set of golf clubs, his navy blue uniform polo untucked around his waist. His head was bent as he examined a few pages on a clipboard, and so didn't notice when Adrian snuck up behind him and clapped him on the back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked angrily.

Adrian continued to smile as he relayed his conversation with Hermione to his friend. "She's gonna come around, mate," he finished.

"I kissed her," Marcus said softly. "I thought if she knew how I felt about her, maybe she wouldn't hate me so much. So, I kissed her and she kissed back."

"Well, that's something I didn't need to know," Adrian muttered. "I didn't know you liked her like that."

Checking off a few boxes on his form, Marcus nodded as he shifted down to the next section of the aisle. He counted golf balls and wrote down the number on the board. "It doesn't matter now," he mumbled. "She's hates me."

"She won't forever," Adrian assured him.

With his pen tucked behind his ear, Marcus placed the clipboard on a shelf and leaned back against it. "Drake likes her too," he said defeatedly.

"News flash, we all like her," Adrian replied, chuckling as he spoke. "I think we just have to leave it up to her to decide when she likes us again."

With a deep sigh, Marcus picked up his clipboard and returned to his task. "What if that never happens?" he asked.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Adrian patted his best friend on the back. "You just have to believe that everything will work out in the end," he advised.

After a long day at work, Hermione's only goal was to draw a bath and go to bed early. Her flat was dark when she entered, save for the small sliver of light passing through the curtains from the streetlight outside. Crookshanks, her old half-Kneazle cat, slept amidst a cluster of throw pillows he'd managed to pull off the sofa.

Turning on the living room light, she frowned. Her flat was too silent. She'd become so accustomed to her four new friends' presence in her life - Marcus's phone calls when they'd return home from work, Draco's late night calls, Adrian's occasional drop-by's, and Theo's penchant for sitting on her doorstep with his latest read that he planned to share with her. But tonight there would be none of that, and she knew her latest bout of loneliness was her own fault.

Taking a seat on the floor beside her cat's bed of pillows, she scratched behind her pet's ears. "Tell me what to do, Crooks," she murmured, listening as he purred. When she scratched a spot he wasn't fond of, Crookshanks turned his head and nipped her hand. "You think I'm being stupid, too?" she asked. She got to her feet when there was a knock on her front door.

No one stood on the other side when she reached it, but a small box sat at her feet. Furrowing her brow, she picked it up and carried it inside. There was a note attached to the top of the box. "Dear Hermione," she read. "I know what I did was unforgivable, but I hope this helps to ease your pain. I love you, Marcus."

Inside the box was a silver frame that held a photo of her younger self holding the hands of her parents. She remembered the day clearly - it was her first day of kindergarten and she was beyond excited to go. Her parents had held her hands tightly to keep her from running away from them. Another note was taped to the backside of the frame, and through teary eyes she read Marcus's second note.

"Draco found this the day after your parents were killed. It was in perfect condition when he found it," he wrote.

Hermione hugged the photo to her chest. Tomorrow she would thank Marcus in person for his gift.


	11. Chapter 11

This is going to be a busy week. In the midst of doing two jobs while our department's assistant is on vacation, I'm also moving to a new desk to make room for the new assistant who can't start soon enough. I'll be training him the last couple of days of this week. Fingers crossed he's a fast learner! Remember when our parents told us not to be in such a hurry to grow up? I totally understand what they meant now.

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><p>Chapter 11<br>It was the day before Christmas Eve when Hermione decided to make things right with her Slytherins. Entering their flat, she bypassed a still sleeping Theo and made her way to Adrian and Marcus's room. The blond faced the wall, his head buried beneath a pillow as he snored softly. Marcus, the lighter sleeper of the two, opened his eyes when he heard the door open.

"Hi, she whispered, moving across the room to sit on the side of his bed. Hesitantly, he sat up, using his hand to smooth down his unruly hair. Hermione reached for his free hand and laced her fingers through his. "I owe you an apology."

Shaking his head, he replied, "No, you don't. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I've missed you these last few days," she told him. "Thank you for the photo."

Pulling on her hand, he prompted her to lie down beside him. "You know we'd do anything for you, Hermione," he reminded her. "I've never cared about someone so much as I do you."

"I feel the same way," she replied, eyes trained on the fullness of his bottom lip. Together, they leaned into one another until their lips met. Hermione opened her mouth, moving Marcus's lips wider to allow their tongues to meet for the first time.

"Must you two do that while I'm trying to sleep?" Adrian groused, tossing his pillow at the occupants of the other bed. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he pushed back the blankets and stretched his back. "Does this mean things are copacetic between the Slytherins and the Gryffindor?"

"I hope so," Hermione replied, sitting up as well despite Marcus's attempts to hold her to his side. "I think I owe Draco and Theo an apology as well. Honestly, Ade, I think I have you to thank the most for making me see that I was being ridiculous."

Rising from the bed, Adrian crossed the room and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's not ridiculous to grieve, Hermione," he whispered. "Never stop believing that you're loved though."

"I won't," she promised.

Theo poked his head through the door, surprised to find Hermione in Marcus's bed. "Anyone seen Draco?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Did he not come home from work last night?" Hermione asked, concerned for her friend's well being.

Marcus looked worried when Theo shook his head, frowning that he hadn't heard him come in the night before. The three men hastily dressed, intent on finding their friend. Hermione was instructed to stay behind and call if Draco came home. She and Marcus shared a chaste kiss before they left, receiving a questioning look from Theo as he shut the door behind him.

It was an hour before they returned. She had spent her time alone nervously tidying up the flat, cooking, and making sure the tea stayed hot for when they returned. Draco, his pale and pointed face bloody, hung limply with his arms stretched over Adrian's and Marcus's shoulders. Very carefully, they laid him down on the couch. Hermione ran to the bathroom to find their first aid kit and wet a flannel with which to clean the blood from his face. When she returned, the three men seemed to let her take charge. Kneeling beside the couch, she gingerly washed his face, careful to avoid his swollen right eye.

"Adrian, I need you to get my wand," she instructed. "It's in the top, left-hand drawer of the bureau in my sitting room. Get it quickly please."

Adrian ran from their flat, moving as quickly as his legs would carry him. "Will he be alright?" Marcus asked, taking a seat on the floor beside Hermione.

"It looks like it's only cuts and bruises, but with my wand, I'll be able to tell if there's any more damage," she stated, her tone analytical as she continued to run the washcloth over the abrasions marring his cheeks. "Who would have done something like this?"

"We found him in an alley a block down from the pub," Theo replied. "He was alone when we got there. Who knows how long he'd been there before we showed up. I'll tell you this though, I won't need magic to make these sons of bitches pay."

Hermione said nothing, but knew she would help take down Draco's attackers. Adrian returned soon after and handed Hermione her wand. She could feel the magic flow through her veins, a deep pulsating feeling thrumming through her. Wordlessly, she recited the spells necessary to assess the damage before she healed his wounds. "He'll be okay," she breathed. "There's no internal damage, no broken bones, just a sprained ankle. Theo, could you get him some water? He'll hopefully be coming around soon."

"Maybe he'll be able to tell us who did this to him," Adrian hoped.

Hermione pointed her wand at Draco's temple and whispered, "Reneverate." Hers was the first face Draco saw when he slowly opened his eyes. She whispered a soft "hi" as tears welled in her brown eyes. He reached out to cup her cheek, hopeful it would help to allay the worry she felt.

"Here, mate, drink some of this," Theo said, handing the water glass to Hermione who would assist him. She held it to his lips and tipped it back just enough so he could wet his mouth.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Adrian asked.

Draco locked eyes with Hermione. "I need to speak to Hermione alone," he replied.

They waited for the others to leave. Draco moved over as much as he could to allow her a place to sit. "What is it?" she asked, taking hold of his hand.

"It was Potter and Weasley," he told her. "I was taking out the trash at work when they cornered me. They've been looking for you, and figured out that I knew where you were. Potter said they saw me in your bookshop, that they'd been staking the place out for awhile in hopes of talking to you. Weasley accused us of having you under some kind of spell when I told them it was better to leave you alone."

"And then they attacked you," she finished for him. A seething anger brewed in the witch, the likes of which Draco hadn't seen since he was a third year.

He nodded, squeezing her hand in hopes of calming her. "A little bit of magic, a few muggle punches thrown in for good measure," he replied.

Hermione leaned forward and rested her head against his chest as she began to cry in earnest. "I'm sorry, Draco," she sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry this happened to you. It's all my fault."

"You couldn't have known," he said soothingly, running his hands from her hair down her back.

"I'll find them. I won't let anything like this happen again," she vowed.


	12. Chapter 12

I've moved desks! I have windows and no one can sneak up on me and my coworkers throw balled up napkins at me over the cubicle walls. It's great! I swear posting this chapter was not the first thing I did after they set up my computer.

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><p>Chapter 12<br>The next morning, Hermione awoke determined. Christmas would have to wait until she found Harry and Ron. She hoped it would be easy; stationing herself in front of the bookstore should do the trick. After dressing and eating a light breakfast, she exited her flat and walked to the shop. She tightly clutched her mobile phone, having promised Marcus that she would call if the situation got out of hand.

She reached the store before the sidewalks filled with passersby. It was the day before Christmas; a notorious time for last minute shopping. A smile quickly appeared on her lips as she thought of her boys out and about looking for a gift for a forgotten someone. Lost in her daydream, she hadn't noticed she was no longer alone until an old, familiar voice spoke her name.

"Sweet Merlin, Hermione!" Ron Weasley gasped. "We've been looking for you for ages."

Caught off guard, Hermione turned and hit her friend in the jaw. "What was that for? What happened? Why did you leave?" Harry asked, rubbing his cheek.

Hermione stared incredulously at the Boy Who Lived. Not much had changed about him during her time away from the wizarding world. He wore the same round, wire-rimmed glasses and his dark hair was in its usual disarray. "Why did you hurt Draco?" she asked in lieu of answering his questions. "There was no reason to attack him. You could have killed him."

Ron snorted derisively. "He really must have her under some spell," he commented.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes, they haven't done a thing to me," she exasperatedly replied. Harry's eyebrows rose when she used the word "they." Hermione sighed and leaned against the side of the shop. "Yes, they. Draco, Theodore Nott, Marcus Flint, and Adrian Pucey. We're friends. There's nothing nefarious going on. They're not even allowed to use magic."

"Explains why he didn't fight back," Ron mumbled.

"Yes, but it doesn't explain why you fought him in the first place," Hermione interjected.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Ron sheepishly looked away. His red hair hung low enough to cover his blue eyes when he dropped his head. "We thought maybe he kidnapped you or something," he murmured. "We thought that's why you hadn't come home."

Stepped away from the comfort of the store, Hermione stood by Ron's side and placed a gentle hand on his bicep. "This is home now," she replied. "It was home before I found out I was a witch, and it's home again."

Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "At first we thought you'd left to find your parents in Australia," he commented. "Did you find them?"

With a sad sigh, Hermione shook her head. She fought to keep the tears at bay as she told them what she had discovered when she returned to her childhood home. "I was fed up with the magical world after that," she said. "After seeing so many people get hurt and finding out my parents were murdered, I wanted to be...normal. I didn't intend to become friends with the Slytherins. They sought me out, but I'm grateful that they did."

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" Ron asked.

"I can't say," she answered as honestly as she could. "My life is here now."

"And what are we?" Harry demanded, his eyes narrowing as his face reddened with anger. "Just some part of your life you no longer acknowledge? Do we not fit into this new life you've created with a group of Death Eaters?"

"It's been five years, Harry, and you've just found me now," she replied angrily. "Either you weren't really trying or your skills have begun to fail you. You were my best friends, but you were part of a life I couldn't live anymore. I'm sorry that you feel like I've abandoned you, but I needed to leave."

"I get it, Mione," Ron said in a rare moment of emotional understanding. "Would you...do you think you'd at least consider letting us come to see you once in awhile?"

"Will you stop trying to hurt my friends?" she asked, glaring accusingly at Harry.

Harry sighed and took her hand. "Can you tell me that you're honestly happy here?" he asked. "They treat you well? No stealing your hair to make voodoo dolls or anything?"

She smiled as she squeezed his hand. "They're perfect gentlemen," she assured him. "I never thought Draco and I would be friends, but he's been so kind and sweet. He's changed, Harry, they all have."

Though he frowned, letting her know he wasn't entirely happy, he promised to trust her. Before leaving, she made plans to see them again after the holidays. Turning away from the store, she made her way to the Slytherins' flat. The door was open when she arrived, and she smiled when she saw Draco standing there.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

He looked up to the small green plant that hung above the door. "I was going to, but now I'm stuck," he told her.

She too looked up and realized what it was - mistletoe. "Is it enchanted?" she asked.

"I reckon so. Stupid Pucey," he muttered, attempting to rip it down. "Come any closer and you'll be stuck too."

Hermione tried to take a step back, but realized she too was now under the spelled mistletoe's power. Her eyes widened; they were both trapped and there was only one solution - a kiss. "So, we just have to..." she started. The feel of his intense gray stare locked on her left Hermione speechless.

Draco nodded as he placed his hands tentatively on her hips. He could hear the nervous stutter in her breath as they moved centimeters closer. Their lips touched softly. As he became more daring, so did Hermione. Her arms wound around his neck as a shiver raced down her spine. They held each other close, not a hairsbreadth of space between them. Draco parted his lips, widening Hermione's as well, and soon their chaste kiss turned to something more passionate.

The sound of footsteps clomping down the hallway towards them reminded the pair of where they were. Slowly, they pulled apart and Draco pulled down the mistletoe. He took a step back to allow her entrance and shut the door. She seemed to be in a daze as they moved into the living room. Her fingers would brush her lips every few seconds as she cheeks flushed red.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing the dazed look in her eyes.

Blinking rapidly to clear the fog in her mind, she nodded. "Fine," she replied.

But Hermione was far from fine as she considered the confusing feelings she now felt for Draco.


	13. Chapter 13

I mentioned last week that my coworkers were throwing stuff at me, and one reviewer asked why. There's no good reason to throw stuff at people, but it's kind of what we do in my department. We throw stuff, we make fun of each other, but it's all in good fun. It's like one big happy family!

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><p>Chapter 13<br>Hermione had purposely chosen the seat between Adrian and Theo that night at dinner. They acted as a buffer between her and Draco and Marcus. Heat warmed her cheeks whenever she thought of the kisses she had shared with the both of them. But then guilt set in when she thought of the other finding out.

Across from her, Draco and Marcus conversed quietly. All she could think was that at any moment one would mention their kiss and then it would all be out in the open. If it hadn't been for Adrian's mistletoe trick, none of this would have happened. She wouldn't have to choose between the two friends for whom she had developed such strong feelings, that is if they would still have her once they knew. More than that, she worried that her interludes with Draco and Marcus would alienate her from Theo and Adrian as well.

"You've been unusually quiet," Theo noted, stealing a sweet potato from her plate. "And you've hardly eaten. You cooked so it can't be the taste."

Hermione smiled and pushed his fork away from her plate with her own. "I would eat, but my food seems to be magically disappearing," she retorted.

"Speaking of things that disappear as if by magic," Adrian cleared his throat. "Who took down my mistletoe?"

"I did," Draco answered, catching the startled look in Hermione's eyes. Adrian made a small noise of protest, but Draco ignored it. "You realize you live with three guys and the only way to break the spell is to kiss? I was doing everyone a favor, especially Hermione."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks for that, Draco," she replied, sounding all too cheerful as she spoke.

"Hoping to catch that nurse who lives down the hall?" Theo inquired, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Because that's who I'd set my sights on."

Hermione returned to the food before her, finally able to eat. For the time being, any discussion of kisses seemed to be abandoned as the two friends on either side of her discussed the merits of the nurse who lived in 4-B. She managed to eat the rest of her meal in silence as the boys talked around her.

Later, she and Marcus stood at the sink cleaning the dishes. As she washed and he dried, Hermione noticed the odd looks he was giving her. "Something bothering you?" she asked, handing him a clean, wet plate.

"Not me. You," he replied, moving around her to put the dried plate away. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," she replied, shutting off the water.

"Just not in a talkative mood?" he guessed.

Hermione shrugged and watched him as he finished drying the last of the utensils. The longer she watched him the clearer it became that he knew nothing of her kiss with Draco. She recalled many times when Marcus Flint had let his anger get the best of him, and it never boded well for the person on the receiving end. She had seen what he did to those he considered enemies, and wondered if his treatment of friends would be less severe. Though, she had little desire to find out firsthand.

"Might I borrow the lovely Miss Granger?" Adrian inquired, popping his head into the kitchen. Hermione nodded, glad for the distraction from her less than pleasant thoughts, and followed silently behind Adrian until they reached his bedroom. After locking the door, he turned to her and whispered, "I know."

Furrowing her brows, she asked, "Know what?"

Dark blond eyebrows rose as if to warn her that he wasn't stupid. "The kiss," he replied simply. He leaned against the door, eyeing the uncomfortable witch who sat on the bed across from him. "Draco couldn't have just ripped it down without getting stuck beneath it. Marcus was working, Theo was working. I know I didn't snog Malfoy, and you were the only other one around."

"Fine, so Draco and I kissed," she stated defensively. "Why do you care?"

With a heavy sigh, Adrian pushed himself away from the door and took a seat at the foot of Marcus's bed. "Because I know how Draco feels about you, and I know how Marcus feels about you. What I don't know is how you feel about them. Sure, I watched you and Marc get a bit cozy the other morning, but that might not mean anything. It's been awhile since you've been in a relationship of any sort, I'm assuming."

She laughed incredulously. "Are you asking me what my intentions are?" she inquired.

"I'm looking out for the well being of two of my best friends, Hermione," Adrian replied, his good natured humor and attitude gone. "Those three are the only family I have, and I won't have some indecisive bint tearing us apart."

Hermione rose from her seat on his bed. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "Look, it wasn't my intention to get involved with either of them, but I can't help how I feel. Never, in a million years, did I think I could care about a group of people who were taught to dislike me because of my heritage. Draco and Marcus have come so far from the close minded, mean spirited, angry boys they were at Hogwarts."

"What will you do?" Adrian wondered, standing to meet her near the dresser. His arms wound around her in a loose hug as they stood quietly.

Hermione looked around his arm to Marcus's bed as she remembered the passionate kiss they had shared only a morning before. "I'll be their friend, but I won't come between them," she decided.

Marcus exited the kitchen to join his roommates in the living room. Theo had set up a movie and was waiting impatiently for the others to join before hitting play. He groaned when Marcus entered alone. "Where are the other two now?" Theo inquired, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. "I thought Hermione was with you."

Taking a seat beside Draco on the floor, Marcus shook his head. "Adrian needed to talk to her," he replied, accepting a mug of hot chocolate from the blond next to him. Since his best friend had pulled Hermione away, he wondered if their discussion would have anything to do with him. It was well understood that he wasn't the only man in the house who harbored feelings for the witch, but he hoped that he was the only one to capture her romantic interest.

When Adrian and Hermione finally returned, Marcus noticed the way her eyes widened at the sight of him. She glanced at Adrian briefly before following him to share the small sofa. The movie played, _A Christmas Carol_, but Marcus could only focus on the woman who sat as far away as possible. Had he done something wrong, he wondered, and if so, how could he fix it?


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
>The next morning, Hermione awoke to a hand roughly shaking her shoulder. "Granger, wake up," she heard. Opening her eyes, Theo came into focus as she sat up. "I want to do that lying under the Christmas tree thing you mentioned before everyone else wakes up."<p>

Hermione rubbed her tired eyes. "Did you need instructions?" she muttered as he pulled her along to the tree. Theo laid down first, tugging gently on the bottom hem of her pajama pants until she joined him. They lay together silently, watching as the morning sun caught the ornaments and made them shine.

"This is really beautiful," Theo marveled, reaching up to spin a green, glass ball that dangled from a long string. "Why did we never think to do this before?"

"I remember when I was little my father would tell me that Santa wouldn't have room for all the presents because I was under the tree," she said, ignoring his question. Tears blurred the lights into a kaleidoscope of color. "On Christmas morning, after he'd find me under tree, he would clear just enough space to lie down beside me. My mum would find us that way, just curled up and content. They used to have to drag me out to open gifts."

Theo took hold of her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Of the quartet, he had always been the least likely to show his emotions. They bonded over books early on in their friendship, but quite often Theodore Nott remained silent. Rarely did he touch her, but it felt nice to have a friend by her side.

"My mum died when I was four," he told her, turning on his side to face her. Hermione mirrored his actions and waited quietly for him to continue. "My father loved her, but when she passed away he just changed. He stopped speaking, stopped eating. Just stayed in their bed all day. I was sent to live with my maternal grandmother for a few months while he recuperated. I came back just weeks before Christmas. There was no tree, no presents, no extravagant dinner, and that's how we spent the holidays every year until I moved in here."

She had never known about his family, but it made sense to her that he would choose that moment to share. Rarely were the two left alone for longer than a few minutes. But now, in the early hours of Christmas morning when no one else was awake, they had free reign to talk. They discussed their first Christmas at Hogwarts, the first time Theo could ever remember having a Christmas tree.

"My housemates thought I'd gone crazy when they found me under the tree in our common room," Hermione laughed.

"Ours was always so cold since we were under the lake, but the way the tree lit up the room was something special," Theo said with a far off look in his green eyes. "I was stare at it for hours when I supposed to be doing homework. It was hypnotizing. Quite like it is now. I'm glad you're here, Hermione, with us."

"I am too," she replied sincerely. When they heard three sets of footsteps entering the room, the pair sat up and smiled brightly at their friends. "Happy Christmas."

Adrian was the first to reach her and offered her a hand to pull her to her feet. He held her close and whispered in her ear, "We okay after last night?"

Hermione nodded minutely, closing her eyes as she hugged him tightly. "We'll always be okay, Ade," she promised.

"So, gifts first or Hermione's cinnamon rolls?" Theo inquired, making it known that he would reject neither choice. The vote was for gifts first, and so everyone placed their piles beneath the tree. Theo began to hand out gifts one at a time until each person had something to unwrap. They took their time, admiring each purchase, and waiting their turn for the next round. When they finished, Adrian was the first to rise to lead the rest of them to the kitchen for breakfast. Hermione stood to follow, but Marcus held her back.

"I, um, I wanted to give this to you, you know, not in front of them," he told her nervously, handing her a small box wrapped in metallic red wrapping paper.

"But you gave me that book of short stories," she murmured, staring at the box. "Honestly, Marcus, another gift isn't necessary."

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and rested his hands on her waist. "I know you worry," he said. "About us and our finances, but I promise you this didn't cost a single cent. And no, I didn't steal it."

With a nervous laugh and shaking fingers, Hermione carefully unwrapped the present and opened the box to reveal a silver locket outlined in small sapphire stones. "Marcus, I-"

"It belonged to my mother," he interrupted, knowing full well that she didn't want to accept the gift. "You have the same birthstone." He took the necklace from her hand and helped her put it on.

"It's beautiful, Marcus," she whispered, admiring the oval shaped locket. "Are you sure?"

He nodded and cupped her cheek. "She left it to me before she died, and told me to give it to the girl I loved," he shared. "Honestly, I never knew what love was, but I know that I love you."

The small pit of guilt that had begun to form the day before now felt like a boulder in her stomach. Before he could kiss her, she said, "I kissed Draco." Marcus's dark eyes opened and he took a step back. "We got caught underneath the mistletoe, and it was the only way out. I'm sorry."

"He likes you, ya know," he replied. Hermione nodded. "Do you feel the same way about him?"

She fingered the locket, wondering if she would find a picture of a young boy with dark hair and mysterious eyes on the inside. "I don't know what I feel," she admitted. "I know that I want you, all four of you, in my life. I know that in such a short period of time you've been better friends to me than Harry and Ron were in seven years. I know that I feel safe when you put your arm around me. I know that I'm happy when you're around."

"Yeah, but do you feel like that when Draco's around?" he asked.

"Some of it," she conceded. "I don't know if it's the same though. Draco and I have the most history, and none of it was pleasant until now. He's sweet and caring, and I'm glad I've gotten to know the man he's become. I love him, Marcus, but it's not the same."

He took a step closer to her. "Not the same as what?"

A smile hitched up the corners of Hermione's mouth as she closed the distance between them. "Not the same as the feelings I have for you," she murmured. "You found me. You brought me into the fold."

He placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer. "I wanted you to be a part of this family from the moment I saw you," he confessed, drawing her lips close in a chaste kiss.

"I'm glad I'm here. Happy Christmas, Marcus," she replied, allowing him to deepen the kiss.


	15. Chapter 15

Make sure to read _Christmas with the Malfoys, Volume 3_! Also, I'm looking for gift basket ideas for my aunt and uncle. I've done breakfast, teas, chocolates, movies in years' past, so I'm kind of out of themes. And I'm too lazy to google them.

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><p>Chapter 15<br>"I wonder what's keeping them," Draco commented as he poured five mugs of coffee.

Adrian shifted in his seat, sure that he knew what was going on between Marcus and Hermione in the other room. What was unclear to him was, if Draco had such strong feelings for the witch, how he would react to the possibility of the brewing relationship between their friends. "They'll probably be in soon," he insisted. "You know it was killing Hermione to leave all that wrapping paper on the floor."

Draco nodded and took a seat, but his gaze remained on the closed kitchen door. Soon, the door swung open, and the pair entered. The first thing Draco noticed was the locket that now hung around Hermione's neck. He had seen it once before just after Marcus's mother died. It was meant to be given to the woman he loved, and the fact that Hermione now wore it said it all. Marcus was too careful with his heart to give the gift on a whim, and he clearly knew she was worthy of it. The only question left to answer was if she reciprocated.

"Nice necklace," Theo said, his eyes darting to Marcus as the pair took their seats. "Way to put the rest of our gifts to shame."

Hermione doled out breakfast with a warm blush on her cheeks. "It's not a competition, Theo," she chastised. "I loved everyone's presents, and I appreciate the thought and effort put into them."

"You sound like my mother," Adrian joked, accepting a cinnamon roll from her. The smile Hermione wore slipped and he soon realized what it was he had said. He put down his plate and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry, love."

Hermione shook her head and offered him a weak smile. "It's fine," she replied, taking her seat between Theo and Marcus. The four friends watched her intently, hoping she wasn't upset by what Adrian had said. "Eat, everyone. Eat."

Beneath the table, Marcus rested his hand on her knee. "You okay?" he asked quietly enough that the rest wouldn't hear.

She laced her fingers through his and nodded. "Just thinking about family," she replied.

Draco cleared his throat loudly. "Who else has a Christmas tradition to share?" he asked. "Flint, anything?"

He turned to left to look at the blond curiously. Holidays did not exist the in the world of Jameson Flint. Like Theo, it wasn't until his first year at Hogwarts that he saw a Christmas tree. He had heard stories from Adrian about the large tree and mountains of presents he awoke to each year on Christmas morning, but had never experienced such a thing until he was older.

"Nothing," he muttered, cutting into his untouched breakfast. He ate quietly, glowering as Draco pestered his housemates for more traditions they could carry out.

It was Hermione who put an end to it. "When I was little, we spent Christmas doing nothing," she stated, eyeing him as a hint of annoyance laced into her words.

They finished breakfast quietly. When the last bite was eaten (nothing was left over) Adrian spoke, "I have a tradition I'd like to start. I propose Draco cleans up all the breakfast dishes."

The four cleared out of the kitchen, leaving Draco behind to deal with the mess. In his anger, he dropped three dishes, including the glass baking pan that had belonged to Hermione's mother. It was Hermione who came to his aid at the sound of crashing glass and porcelain. "Are you okay?" she asked worried, surveying the debris.

"I'm fine," he huffed. "Just go away, Granger."

Bending down, she helped him pick up the pieces of broken plates. "So, I'm Granger again," she remarked, gathering the bits of her pan to repair later.

Standing, he sighed. "You don't get it."

"Then make me understand, Draco," she implored.

"He found you for me," he exclaimed. "It's supposed to be me, not him. I thought that if you would listen to me, hear my apology, that I'd get a second chance."

When she rested her hands on his waist, Draco gripped the counter's edge tighter until his knuckles turned as white as the freshly fallen snow. "You _did_ get a second chance," she replied softly. "I spent years being unhappy until the four of you came along. _You_, Draco, you're the closest thing I have from my old life. Yeah, we fought and hated each other, but we've made things better. I do love you, Draco."

His grip loosened, but his head hung in defeat. "Do you hold it against me? Is that why it isn't me?" he wondered.

Hermione took hold of his right arm and turned him to face her. "Of course I don't. I don't know why it isn't you," she admitted. "Maybe he was just more forthcoming about his feelings. It wasn't until the mistletoe that I even thought you might like me as something more than a friend."

Blond brows furrows at this confession. "Wait, so you and Marcus...before...?" he asked, a confused stutter in his voice. The blush that darkened her pale cheeks was all the answer he needed. Sighing, he stepped around her and took a seat at the table. "How did I not know?" he wondered.

Smiling, Hermione took the seat beside him and placed her hand over his. "It was once and then he told me he was supposed to kill my parents," she replied, not bothering to mention the kiss they shared the morning they learned Draco had been injured. "It wasn't exactly my idea of a story book, perfect, first kiss. If I didn't care about him, I don't know that I'd have been able to forgive him."

Draco turned his hand over so their palms touched. "Sometimes I'm amazed by how quickly you became a part of our group," he commented. "After all I've done and all I've put you through, you're a saint for forgiving me."

Her free hand moved to cup his cheek, tilting it so he looked her in the eye. "And what is it you've done besides call me a few names?" she wondered. "Besides, I have you to thank for my new smile," she added, proudly showing it off.

Draco moved his hand from hers and pushed up the sleeve of her shirt. "I could have stopped her," he muttered, staring at the scarred skin on her right arm. "This never should have happened."

"There was nothing you could have done that wouldn't have resulted in your own death," she replied softly, rolling up his left sleeve. She ran a cool hand over the red, scarred brand on his arm; the mark of the Death Eaters. "We all have our scars to remind us of what we've done, but they're not who we are. You're not a Death Eater and I'm not a Mudblood."

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Love you, Hermione."

"Love you too," she replied with a smile.


	16. Chapter 16

Am I the only person who didn't realize that next weekend is Christmas? It's a good thing I'm taking the next two days off from work so I can get my shopping done. I was given some really great ideas for the family Yankee Swap gift. Used gift cards might be the easiest one to pull off.

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><p>Chapter 16<br>Marcus sat beside Adrian as they awaited Hermione's return. "She loves me," he told his best friend as a huge grin lit up his face. "She admitted that she has feelings for Drake, but they're not as strong as what she feels for me. I mean, she could be the one."

Theo, who had just made his presence known, asked, "The one what?"

Grinning, Adrian pinched his friend's dark, stubbled cheek. "I think our boy Marcus is in love," he cooed. Marcus smacked his hand away, but didn't deny his best friend's words.

"I would have thought she'd go for Draco," Theo commented, thumbing through the book of poetry Marcus had given him for Christmas. When neither man replied, he looked up to see the glower Marcus shot his way. "I'm just saying they hated each other for so long that the only possibility now would be to get together. All those years of tension had to bring out...more positive feelings, if you get my drift."

Marcus stood, crossed the room, and slapped his roommate upside the head. "Yeah, I get your drift, and I think you're an idiot," he replied before exiting the room. He reached his bedroom door, thoughts of Hermione preoccupying his attention. She had promised him that he was it, he was the one she wanted. But he had also noticed how close she and Draco had become over the past few weeks.

Seven years of animosity had disappeared with one simple apology. He had expected Hermione to be more resistant to Draco's attempts at a reconciliation, but perhaps five years on her own made her more receptive to the idea of company in any form. And he knew that once Draco Malfoy set his sights on something, he would eventually get it. Hermione had already admitted to having feelings for both men, but he feared, in the end, Draco would win her heart.

"You've been staring at that door for two minutes," Draco said, pulling Marcus from his thoughts. "Trying to burn a hole through it?"

Shaking his head, Marcus turned the knob and entered his room, beckoning Draco to follow. "I want to talk to you," he said, taking a seat on his bed, "about Hermione."

Draco sat opposite him and smiled. "I already know about the two of you," he stated, running a hand through his blond locks. "I'll admit - I'm a bit jealous."

"You're one of my best friends, Drake. I'm worried that she might come between us," Marcus admitted. "Don't get me wrong, I love having her here, but if you're not comfortable with us or something..."

"Are you happy?" Draco interrupted. "I mean really, truly happy. Because I think you are, and I can't remember the last time I've seen you this way. Maybe I've never seen you this way. The point is, if Hermione makes you this happy, then forget about me. I'm just relieved that after all that's happened between her and I that we've managed to become friends."

"We never should have believed all that bullshit our fathers taught us," Marcus agreed, rising from his bed. He moved to his dresser where a pile of clean laundry sat waiting to be put in the drawers. Methodically, he sorted it - socks, boxer shorts, short-sleeved shirts, denim jeans - before placing each pile in its appropriate place. "I've liked her for awhile," he finally admitted. "Since long before the war. Remember that dueling club that started in your second year? She took on Millicent Bulstrode, and that fight was just incredible. She held her own against someone twice her size, and never backed down."

"And that's when you knew," Draco finished, understanding the years' long crush his friend had on the girl they both liked. "For me it was the Room of Requirement. How can you not start to feel something for the woman who saved your life?"

Marcus put the last of his socks in the top drawer and closed it. "She is pretty remarkable," he agreed. "Pretty sure I'd have left your ass there to burn if you treated me the way you did her."

Laughing, Draco clapped him on the back and began to walk out of the room. "Just, um, treat her well. She deserves it," he advised, shutting the door behind him.

It wasn't closed long before Hermione slipped into the room and wound her arms around Marcus's waist. Together they stood silently, enjoying the rare moment of tranquility as they were wrapped in each other's arms. Marcus rubbed her bare arms, which felt cool to his touch before turning to face her. "Cold?" he asked, his voice low so as not to disturb the moment.

"I'm alright," she replied. "I have a confession to make."

Dark eyebrows rose, and he was torn between frowning and grinning. "What is it?" he asked, apprehensively.

"I heard some of what you and Draco said," she admitted as a blush warmed her cheeks. "You really liked a second year?"

"What can I say?" he remarked, smiling down at the witch in his arms. "I like strong women. Purebloods are taught from the time we can talk that we're superior to everyone else. But then in comes this little witch with big teeth and even bigger hair. Everyone thought you must be a Pureblood because you could do things that even Draco couldn't."

Hermione scowled as she remembered her early years at Hogwarts. The teasing, the taunts, the pleas from her classmates to help with their homework. Worst of all was Draco's introduction of the nasty epithet, Mudblood. Though she had tried her best to seem unaffected by his incessant use of the slang, oftentimes she had cried herself to sleep wondering how many others had whispered the derogatory word behind her back.

"I know it's no excuse," he continued, interrupted her thoughts, "but he was always jealous of you. His father hated that you bested him in every class. It's why Lucius bought us those brooms, so Drake could be on the team. It was the one thing he could do better."

"You're right, it's no excuse," she agreed. "And if I'd never gone to Malfoy Manor, I'd probably still hate him."

"It's easier being away from our families," Marcus commented, pulling out of her grasp to take a seat on his bed. He pulled her down to sit on his left leg, her legs sandwiched between his. "Remember I told you a lot of us resented being sent here? Well, I see it a bit differently now. If it hadn't been for the exile of our families and our anger towards our parents for what they'd forced us into, you would never have been a part of our lives."

Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. "Sometimes those old coots know what they're doing," she murmured.

"Guess so," he replied, tightening his arms around her waist.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
>For the first time in days, Hermione returned to her flat. It wasn't long after she stepped out of the shower that she heard a knock at her front door. Laughing to herself, she tied the belt of her robe tightly around her waist and towel dried her hair as she moved through her small flat to put an end to the noise.<p>

Expecting to find a Slytherin on the other side, she was more than shocked to find Harry and Ron waiting for her to grant them entrance. "What are you doing here?" she asked, standing in the doorway to keep them out.

Harry took a step back, fearful of her furrowed eyebrows and lack of smile. Subconsciously, he rubbed his jaw where she had hit him only days earlier. It was Ron who stepped up, standing between his best friend and the woman he once thought he would marry. "There's something we need to talk to you about," he said, smiling nervously at her.

She stood her ground, keeping herself firmly planted in the doorway. "What is it?" she inquired.

"Could we come in and talk?" Ron requested, looking nervously down the hallway. Turning back to her, he leaned close and whispered, "It's a wizard world thing."

Grimacing, she stepped back and opened the door wider. The boys quickly made themselves at home, getting comfortable on the sofa with their feet on the coffee table. One throat clear from Hermione and they removed them. "So, um, I...uh, spoke with Kingsley the other day," Harry said, nervous as he tried to gauge her reaction.

"He's still the Minister then," Hermione commented, taking a seat in the armchair next to the sofa.

Harry nodded. "People love him. Who wouldn't want a hero in charge?"

Sitting forward, Ron cleared his throat. "Anyway, we got to talking with Kings, and you came up," he continued, taking up where his friend left off. "And then the Slytherins came up after that."

Before Hermione could get a word out, though she huffed audibly, Harry cut her off. "He's decided to revoke their exile," he said excitedly, hoping it would entice her to return to their world. "They'll be able to come back home at the start of the new year."

Getting to her feet, Hermione exited the room. They heard a door slam shut and the two friends exchanged a worried glance. "Reckon she's getting her wand?" Ron asked, sneaking closer to the hallway to see if she had yet emerged. When the doorknob turned, he hurried back to his seat.

Hermione returned dressed in jeans and an old sweatshirt with her hair pulled into a haphazard ponytail. "Let's get one thing straight," she stated, standing on the other side of the coffee table. "I did not leave because of them. I met them a month ago. I had my reasons, the two of you know my reasons, for leaving. Were you hoping that by taking my friends away, I'd change my mind and come back?"

Ron was the first one to his feet, rounding the table to rest a friendly hand on her shoulder. "No, we just hoped that if they came back, you would too," he rationalized. "We've missed you, Mione. We just thought this might help. Maybe if you had them there, you would feel better about the wizarding world."

"I appreciate your concern and the effort you've made," she replied stoically, "but it doesn't change my mind."

"And if they decide to leave?" Harry inquired, getting to his feet. "What then?"

Brown eyes narrowed dangerously on the Boy Who Lived. "Then they'll leave," she retorted defiantly, detecting the hint of incredulous anger in Harry's voice.

"You really won't ever consider coming back?" Ron asked. Hermione shook her head and took a step away from him, effectively dislodging the hand he had placed on her shoulder. A silent exchange passed between the two men before Ron finally spoke again. "Okay, Hermione. If this is what you want I guess we have to respect that." With a jerk of his head in Harry's direction, he signaled that it was time to leave. He turned away, but backtracked and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Bye, Mione."

He and Harry just made it to the door when she found her voice. "You know where I live," she told them. "Visit again soon." With a nod of his head, Ron led Harry out, who closed the door behind them. Taking a deep breath, she sat down to think over what Harry and Ron had come to tell her.

With the opportunity to return to their old lives, Hermione wondered just how many would accept the Ministry's offer. Marcus had often spoken of his disdain for the Ministry's treatment of Death Eaters following the war. Draco remained ambivalent; completely unconcerned that he no longer could live his old life. Theo, she knew, missed the wizarding world the most. He would talk for hours about broom rides around his family's palatial estate or trips to foreign wizard villages he'd taken with his grandmother. Hermione wondered if he would be the first to return.

Pushing herself off the sofa, she slipped her feet back into her trainers and donned her winter gear. Snow had begun to fall only an hour earlier, coating the sidewalks of muggle London with fresh, white powder. Her boots crunched through the snow until she reached their apartment building. Tapping her boots against the door frame, she dislodged as much slush as she could before entering. By the time she reached their flat a few stories up, sweat dampened the back of her sweater.

"Miss us already?" Theo asked, shutting the front door behind him. "I'm just on my way to the library if you want to tag along."

"I actually came to talk to the four of you," she replied.

Work seemingly forgotten, Theo turned and unlocked the door. He let her in first, and followed as he pulled off his coat and hung it on the hook near the door. Marcus and Adrian was sprawled out on the sofas when she entered, and Marcus immediately sat up to allow her a spot to sit.

"Is Draco around?" she asked.

Theo nodded and left the living room for a moment, returning shortly after with a sleepy Draco in tow. He took a seat beside Hermione, effectively sandwiching her between himself and Marcus. His eyes drooped and he used his hand to keep his head propped up. "What's going on?" he asked groggily.

Steeling herself with a deep intake of breath, she said, "Harry and Ron were came by shortly after I got home. To make a long story short, you can all go back."

Turning to look at her, now suddenly more alert, Draco asked, "Go back where?"

"The wizarding world," Theo answered for her.

The sofa shifted beside her as Marcus stood and left the room.


	18. Chapter 18

I hope everyone had a great holiday! The family part is over for now, which means peace, quiet, and some writing time. Theoretically, I'll be able to finish writing this story this week. I'm not sure yet how many more chapters there'll be, but I'll let you know when I'm done!

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><p>Chapter 18<br>Waiting only a few moments, Hermione rose from the couch and followed Marcus to his bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it in an attempt to keep him from leaving. "Talk to me," she requested.

He was angrily opening and closing drawers as if searching for something that came up short with each drawer he slammed shut. "There's nothing to talk about," he grumbled. When he had exhausted his search of the drawers, he moved on to the closet.

She moved away from the door and took hold of his arm as he entered the small closet. "There is something to discuss if you're upset, Marcus," she reasoned. "What's bothering you? Is it because Harry and Ron came by? Or did it have something to do with what they said?"

Turning around, he glared angrily, though not at her. "I'm not going back," he declared. "I'm not going back, but they will."

With a sharp tug on his arm, Hermione managed to pull him from the closet and direct him towards Adrian's bed. She sat, urging him to do the same. "Why wouldn't you go back?" she wondered. "That's your world. All you've known is magic. I'd of thought you would want to return to that."

Sighing, Marcus stared at the closet doors. "I won't go back to a world where I'm not wanted," he replied sadly. "I figured you of all people might understand that. The Ministry excommunicated me, my family. This isn't the life I imagined having, sharing a small flat with three guys and working for minimum wage in a sporting goods store, but at least I know that there's no one here who'll hate me for the things I've done."

"You don't know that the others don't feel exactly as you do," Hermione replied, lacing her fingers through his.

Marcus's gaze turned to their joined hands resting in her lap. It occurred to him then that going back would also mean losing Hermione. "Would you ever go back?" he asked, fearful that he already knew her answer.

"Going back there doesn't mean you can never come back here," she said softly, evading his question.

"And staying here doesn't mean we can't go back there," he reasoned.

Turning, Hermione shifted so she faced his profile. "Seems like reasonable logic to me," she replied. "Something else is bothering you though."

Letting go of her hand, Marcus ran his fingers through his hair. "They're the only family I have," he murmured. "They go back, and what have I got?"

"Me," she replied. Leaning forward, Hermione pressed her lips to his cheek. "You have me," she added, and when he turned his head she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

When she returned to the living room a few minutes later, Theo had taken her seat beside Draco. The two conversed quietly with Adrian, who sat on the floor in front of them. A bittersweet smile crossed Hermione's face as she watched her boys talk. If they decided to leave, she knew she would miss them dearly, but she also knew there was no way she could make them stay.

Adrian was the first to notice that she had joined them, and beckoned her forward to sit beside him. She did as he silently asked and leaned her head against his shoulder. "You guys okay?" she asked.

"Where's Marc?" Theo wondered, looking towards the archway that separated the living room from the hallway.

"He'll be along soon," she replied.

"I'm guessing he wasn't thrilled with your announcement," Draco said sourly, obviously not pleased either.

Reaching forward, Hermione massaged his ankle. "I take it none of you are too happy with me right now," she replied.

"Not you, just the news," Theo assured her. "What do you think we should do?"

It came as a shock to the young woman that he would even ask. "I don't know that I can answer that," she replied. "It would be selfish of me to want you to stay here. I like having the four of you only a couple of blocks from me."

"Did Potter and Weasley mention any restrictions on our magic?" Draco asked.

"They didn't, but I guess if you can go back to the wizarding world you can use magic again as well," she replied.

Adrian, who had remained silent since she entered, finally spoke. "I can honestly say I haven't missed it. Yeah, it was nice to be rich, but would we really have been this close if we still lived there?"

"We've always been close," Theo argued.

Draco shook his head. "Not like this," he interjected, locking eyes with Hermione. "Living together, struggling to make it through each week, we never would have had that back there."

Adrian smiled. "And we wouldn't have Hermione either," he added, saying what Draco didn't want to voice.

"Sure, it hasn't been all bad," Theo replied, "but this isn't home. We're wizards. We don't belong here."

Shaking his head, Draco got to his feet. "It is now," he said. "I'm not going back."

Hermione watched as he left the room, a bit in awe of the man who was once so proud to be a Pureblood. When he was out of her sight, she turned to Adrian. He was deep in thought as stared at the floor in front of him. She wondered if the friends who had become a family, not only to each other but to her as well, would be divided by the decisions they made that day.

"So, Marc, Drake, and you are all staying here," Adrian stated, pointing to Hermione. "Theo, you're the only one going back. You'll be alone there."

"Does that mean you're not going back either?" Theo asked.

Before he replied, Adrian looked briefly at Hermione before shrugging his shoulders. "I figure we don't really have to decide now, do we?" he asked. "I mean, I love the wizarding world. It's home, it's where we grew up. But I love it here too. And Marcus is my best friend. I can't imagine not seeing him all the time."

"You could still do magic here, Theo," Hermione pointed out. "You'll just have to be discreet about it. The exile is over, but your time here doesn't have to be."

Promising to think about it, Theo left for work. Adrian got to his feet and helped Hermione up. "Everything will work out, Hermione," Adrian promised.

"I hope so," she muttered as he led her to the kitchen for tea.


	19. Chapter 19

You know how some people start to go stir-crazy when they're home with nothing to do? Apparently, I'm not one of those people. I enjoyed a nice week and a half staycation over the holidays. Relaxing in bed, staying in my pajamas, reading, writing, catching up on the shows on my DVR. I could live that life if I didn't need the money. Alas, it's now over and I'm back at work. Summer vacation will be here soon, though, right?

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><p>Chapter 19<br>It had just begun to rain when Hermione returned home from work. Dropping her keys in the bowl near the front door, her first thought was to start a fire to ward off the wintry day's chill. She had been involved in a week-long debate with the Slytherins regarding the merits of returning to the wizarding world. It was nice to return to the peace and quiet of her flat.

It never lasted long though.

Soon after the fire was started and the kettle set on the stove, a pounding, insistent knock could be heard at her front door. Quickly, she turned off the burner and rushed to put an end to the pounding. The door barely opened when Draco barged into her flat. "He's gone," he said angrily.

Hermione shut the door and watched the blond pace the length of her small sitting room. "Who's gone?" she asked, worried that it would be Marcus.

"Nott," he spat. "The bloody bastard just left. He left a note and took off while we were out. I knew he wanted to go back, but the least he could have done was say goodbye."

"Would you have listened?" she wondered. He followed her to the kitchen and waited as she poured two mugs of tea.

"Of course I would," he muttered, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into his tea. "I hate this. I wish Potter and Weasley had never shown up again. All they've done is cause trouble."

Sighing, Hermione reached across the table and covered Draco's hand. "It would've been wrong to keep this from them and you," she replied. "You've made your choice, but it's up to them to make theirs as well. If Theo wants to go back, it wouldn't be right to stop him. Besides, you'll still see him."

Draco shook his head and stared at their hands. "No, I'm done with that world and everyone in it," he said defiantly. "I don't mind being here. I like it, in fact. If we were both still there, would we have been friends?"

Hermione retracted her hand and cupped both around her mug. "Maybe," she said, offering a weak smile. She knew, deep down, that if he were still the great wizard heir to the Malfoy fortune that he would never look her way. Despite his insistence on thanking her for saving his life five years earlier during the war, Hermione believed it never would have come if neither had left that world.

"No, I think I'd still be arrogant and too desperate to please my father to have ever spoken to you," he said sadly. "The muggle world changed me for the better. All those years I spent believing that your kind didn't belong in our world, I was wrong. So many people lost their lives because we were idiots. It scares me to think that there are still people who think that way, like what you fought for meant nothing."

"The wizarding world wouldn't undo all of that if you wanted to go back," Hermione replied.

Sighing, Draco leaned back in his seat. "Do you think I should go back?" he asked.

"What I want doesn't matter," she stated, pulling back her hand to let both drop in her lap.

For the first time since he entered her flat, Draco smiled. "Yeah, it does," he told her. "You're a part of this family too, Hermione. What you say _does_ matter to us."

She rose then from her chair, rounded the table, and wrapped her arms around the still seated Draco's neck. "I wish you would all stay," she whispered. Draco pulled her onto his lap, his arms steadfastly around her waist. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. You weren't supposed to care about me. I'm not supposed to get upset that you might leave. When I came back here, it was to start fresh, and I never realized how miserable I was until the four of you befriended me. I don't want you to go, Draco, even if it's only temporary."

His lips gently touched her temple. "I'm not going anywhere," he vowed. "Marcus and I have no intentions of going back. It'll be nice to do a little magic again, but this is home now."

"What about Ade?" she wondered, wide eyed.

Draco shrugged. "I don't know," he replied honestly, looking more and more tired as the conversation continued. "He might go back just for Theo's sake. Who knows what it will be like back there for someone like us."

With a frown on her face, Hermione rose from his lap and began to clear the table. The running water from the sink tap was the only sound that filled the small kitchen. All she could think of was what it would be like for Theo in the wizarding world. It seemed improbable that a former Death Eater, no matter how reluctant or reformed, would be welcomed back with open arms. Adrian had once spoken of the treatment he received for his association with the outcast wizards, and it was less than friendly. Several shop proprietors had vowed to deny service to those who sided with Voldemort. She worried that Theo would be met by hostility and prejudice.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked. He had come up behind her and placed his hands on her waist.

She leaned back against his chest and sighed. "It's like you said - we're a family," she replied. "As much as I'm sad that he's left, I'm more scared for what he'll face there."

"I am too," Draco murmured. "It's like _you_ said though, he could come back."

Turning in his arms, Hermione looped her arms around his waist and held tightly to his thin frame. "What if he doesn't though?" she asked worriedly. "What if his damn pride gets the better of him?"

Draco sighed, having the wondered the same thing. Theo had always been stubborn as a mule and as proud as the peacocks that once strutted about on the lawns of Malfoy Manor. He feared his friend would not return to the muggle world just to prove that he didn't belong there. It hadn't occurred to him until now that he may never see Theodore Nott again.

"Come stay with us tonight," he suggested, no longer wanting to discuss the matter. "You know how I hate the idea of you being alone."

Not in the mood to argue for her independence, she slipped out of his arms and nodded. "Let me just grab a few things and we'll go."

Just as she reached the kitchen door, he spoke. "It's not your fault, Theo leaving. We don't think it's your fault."

Closing the distance between them, Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and pressed her lips to his cheek. "Thank you, Draco," she whispered.


	20. Epilogue

This is the end. Thanks for sticking with me this far, and I hope you enjoy the epilogue!

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><p>Epilogue<br>Christmas - The Next Year  
>"Hermione, I can't find the star," Draco called from the back room of the flat he still shared with Marcus, and now Hermione.<p>

She stood over a cooling sheet of cookies, methodically lifting each with a spatula as she transferred them from the cookie sheet to the wax paper that lined the small kitchen table. It wasn't until she finished that task that she responded. "Check in the box of ornaments next to your old school books," she called back. "I told them to label those boxes better last year, but no one ever listens to me," she mumbled as she scooped fresh dough onto the sheet.

Minutes later, he appeared in the kitchen with a triumphant smile on his face. "Found it," he declared, holding up the star. She smiled proudly, choosing to ignore it when he stole a warm chocolate chip cookie from the table. He stood close, letting his free hand run lovingly over the swell of her stomach. "Feeling okay?" he asked.

"I'll be better when Marcus gets home," she replied. "And when you stop stealing my cookies."

Laughing, he ducked out of the way of her spatula and grabbed another cookie. "What do you reckon this surprise is?" he asked, his gray eyes twinkling with delight.

Shrugging, she turned back to the counter to place more dough on the cookie sheet. "I imagine it's Blaise," she replied. "He was supposed to come last year, wasn't he?"

"It had better not be Blaise," he retorted. "He's not much of a prize."

Smiling, she glanced over her shoulder. "I knew about ten witches from Hogwarts who would beg to differ."

"Don't let him know that," Draco replied with a laugh. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before exiting the kitchen to retrieve the rest of the ornaments. The front door opened softly when he returned with what he hoped would be the last box.

"Where's Hermione?" Marcus whispered, looking around the front room for her. Draco indicated with a tilt of his head towards the kitchen. He took off for the kitchen, excited to show her his surprise. Still facing the counter, Hermione's back was to him when he entered. Sliding his arms around her waist, Marcus pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. "Hi baby," he murmured, drawing his lips up to her ear.

Dough forgotten, Hermione turned in his arms and smiled. "Welcome home," she murmured, leaning into his embrace. "Why were you gone so long?"

His hands traced the length of her back before one came around to rest on her stomach. "Your Christmas present was a bit harder to come by than I originally anticipated," he replied cryptically. "Was Draco on his best behavior?"

"Hardly," she replied with a laugh. "What did you get me?"

Chuckling, a thoughtful look crossed his face. "It's not Christmas yet, not for another two weeks," he pointed out. Hermione tightened her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. "Have you been a good girl this year? Good enough to warrant an early Christmas present?"

"Between swollen ankles, the inability to fit into any of my clothing thus resorting to wearing yours, back aches, and Draco, I'd say I more than deserve an early gift," she replied.

Placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, Marcus smiled and led her from the kitchen. What she found in front of the undecorated tree was a man with his back turned to her. He still wore a heavy winter coat, but had removed his hat to reveal shaggy brown hair that desperately needed to be cut. "Theo," she gasped. Pulling away from Marcus's protective arm, she launched herself at him as best she could when he turned around.

"Well, if I'd known I could expect this kind of greeting I'd of come back sooner," he mused, holding her tightly. "Something's different. New haircut?"

Backing up, but still in the gentle hold of Theo's arms, Hermione shook her head.

"New...sweater?" he guessed. Again, she shook her head, her smile persistent. "New..."

"Life growing inside of me courtesy of your best friend," she interrupted.

"Draco, you cad," Theo remarked.

"It wasn't me, I swear," he replied, holding his hands up defensively.

Hermione stepped back and wrapped Marcus's arm around her shoulders. "We eloped just after Easter," she explained, squeezing the hand that rested on her shoulder. "Draco was our only witness. Then, a month later, we found out that this little guy was coming." Marcus's free hand gently grazed her abdomen, stopping only when her hand covered his.

Looking around the flat, he noticed that, with the help of magic, the place looked bigger. A second floor had been added as a loft, and he could see one closed door near the top of the stairs. "The muggles don't see this?" he wondered.

Draco shrugged. "The neighbors rarely stop by," he replied. "Besides, this is Hermione we're dealing with. Don't you think she's put enough charms up to keep them in the dark?"

"We've added another room upstairs when the baby comes," Hermione added. "We figured Draco, and Adrian when he visits, would appreciate a little distance from the late night crying."

"Speaking of, where is Ade?" Marcus inquired, speaking for the first time since he had returned with his wife.

"Out getting me eggs," Hermione replied sheepishly. Together, Draco and Marcus sighed. For weeks, all she had done was bake, trying to perfect recipe upon recipe. Marcus had hoped it was a phase she would soon pass. "I need them for the next batch of cookies."

"You're an addict," he teased. "Our son is going to weigh as much as a toddler when he's born because all you're doing is making cookies."

Draco cleared his throat and patted his stomach. "To be fair, she's never been the taste tester," he admitted. "That responsibility has fallen to Ade and me in your absence. I intend to make you pay for my gym membership."

When Adrian returned with the eggs, Hermione happily dragged him off to the kitchen, leaving Theo, Marcus, and Draco alone to prepare for the decorating festivities to come after dinner. Draco began separating the ornaments from the strings of lights, putting the lights to the side before gently placing the ornaments back in the container. As he untangled the lights, he looked thoughtfully at Theo. "I'm surprised Hermione didn't notice those bruises," he commented.

Sighing, Theo stooped and grabbed another bundle of lights; anything to distract himself. "She seems really happy," he remarked.

"Yeah, and it's taken a lot of time for her to get there," Marcus groused. "She moved in here shortly after you left. Every day, she asked when I thought you'd come home."

"She was afraid we might leave too," Draco interjected. "Especially when Adrian started going back more and more."

Marcus picked up the story once more. "She asked me to marry her about halfway through January, but I said no. There was no way I was going to do it when she was like that; depressed, afraid, vulnerable."

Draco nodded in agreement. "I've never seen her like that," he added. "When Ade would come home, she would drag him to the kitchen, put on the tea, and pump him for information on you."

Theo swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. Never had he thought that his return to the wizarding world would cause her such pain. "When did you agree to marry her?" he wondered.

A smile briefly came to Marcus's face as he remembered that day. It was late March, Easter morning, and the first time in months that Hermione hadn't asked about Theo. She smiled brightly as she stood over a skillet of scrambled eggs. "Coffee's almost ready," she told him as he kissed her cheek. He poured two cups just as it finished brewing, and after adding milk and sugar to one, set it beside the stove for her.

"I love you," he told her. "You know that, right?"

Shutting off the burner, she turned and leaned into his chest as his arms wound around her. "I do know that," she replied. "And I love you too. You've been so good to me, so sweet and patient. What have I done to deserve you?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that question?" he murmured, kissing her tenderly.

This was the point in the morning when she usually asked if he thought today would be the day Theo returned. Instead, she pulled away and began plating breakfast for three. Draco, she knew, would join them the second the plate touched the table. With eyes half closed and dragging feet, he took a seat beside Hermione and propped an elbow up on the table to support his head. She stroked his hair, moving it from his eyes before letting the backs of her fingers skim the stubbled skin of his cheek.

"Any Easter traditions?" Marcus asked as he buttered a slice of toast.

Hermione shrugged and drew her attention away from Draco. "Nothing really," she replied. "I'll take some fresh flowers to my parents' graves, but that's about it."

"I'll go with you, if you want," Draco said sleepily. Though he seemed relieved when she turned him down, insisting she could go alone.

Having finished her breakfast, Hermione rose from the table to clear her plate and ready herself for the day. When she was gone, Marcus balled up his paper napkin and threw it at his friend to wake him. "She didn't ask today," he said.

"Guess that means you're gonna do the asking now," Draco replied, poking his fork at the uneaten eggs on his plate.

"I've held off agreeing to it because I wanted to make sure she really wants it, not because she's afraid I'll leave her," Marcus stated with conviction. "She hasn't asked in a week about Theo's return. She seems happier now, like it's finally occurred to her that we're not going anywhere."

Marcus's smile continued to grow as he finished his story. "We got married that night in front of a justice of the peace."

Draco set aside his lights and directed his full attention to the friend he hadn't seen in a year. "He's told you his story. Tell us yours," he urged. "What's with the bruises?"

"Let's just say I wasn't quite welcomed back," Theo muttered. "And when a former Death Eater shows up at St. Mungo's, they're not too quick with the healing spells. I figured they'd just heal naturally. I was never very good at performing them on myself."

"Hermione can heal you up," Draco offered, but received a firm no.

Marcus opened his mouth to retort, but heard his name called from the kitchen. Turning on his heel, brows furrowed, he entered the kitchen quickly. "Her water broke," Adrian reported, looking like he may soon be sick. "She's not gonna...like, have the baby right now, is she?"

Ignoring his pale friend, Marcus's face lit up as he held his wife's shoulders. "You ready to do this?" he asked.

"No," Hermione whispered as tears swam in her eyes. "I can't do it, Marcus."

He helped her step over the small puddle of water on the floor and led her out of the kitchen. "You are Hermione Granger," he told her. "You've faced Dementors and werewolves and Death Eaters and great, big, ugly trolls. If anyone can do this, it's you."

"I didn't finish my cookies. They could burn," she replied weakly, attempting to break free of his grasp.

"Adrian and Theo can finish them," he assured her, signalling to Draco to grab her bag as he led her outside. A cab was waiting downstairs, thanks to Draco, to take them to the hospital.

Eight hours later, Randall Henry Flint was born. The new family returned home two days later to a fully decorated house. The tree was lit despite being hours before noon, and the smell of cinnamon lingered in the air. The living room was unpopulated as a tired Hermione sat down on the sofa that had once been Theo's bed, and held her new son close.

"Where do you think Draco is?" she wondered.

Marcus shrugged as he sat down beside her. His finger traced the short length of his son's cheek before he gently smoothed away the fine, brown strands of hair near his face. "I kind of thought they'd be here," he agreed. "It's not every day that someone names Draco godfather to their child."

"What _were_ we thinking?" Hermione quipped. She sat up a bit straighter when she heard the door open, and strained to see who had come in.

"That's the last of it," Draco declared, setting a cardboard box down near the door. Theo followed him, a box in his arms.

Hermione eyed them bewilderedly, afraid to let her hopes rise in the event they would soon come tumbling down. "Last of what?" she asked.

"Theo's stuff," Adrian stated, entering last. "He and I can take Marcus's and my old room since I don't snore like Draco. You, Marcus, and Randy can have the second floor to yourselves. We'll be one, big, weird family."

Draco took Randy from her arms as she stood to hug Theo. "We've always been a family," she told. "Welcome home."


End file.
